Nightingale
by quiet-heart
Summary: Gibbs has a dead retired four-star admiral on his hands, and his nurse is convinced it was murder. So is Gibbs, but the question is why? Then a tell-all manuscript comes to light, and Gibbs realizes that the admiral had a few stories to tell, stories someone would kill to keep from ever reaching the printers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was a quiet day at NCIS and Special Agent Gibbs had just wrapped up a fairly simple theft case with his team. As he worked, he listened with one ear to his team, who were chatting with Dr. Jimmy Palmer, their resident Medical Examiner.

"So this guy felt underappreciated and overlooked, and that made him decide to steal confidential files from his supervisor?" Jimmy asked, leaning against Special Agent Eleanor Bishop's desk wall.

"E-yup," Bishop said. "Pretty stupid stuff, like supply lists from various companies that would have given a rival company a leg up in bidding, private emails that would have been a bit embarrassing, stuff like that, nothing really serious, just really stupid stuff that could be a bit embarrassing, especially some of the emails between Commander Everson and her husband."

"Lovey-dovey?" Palmer guessed.

"Sexually graphic, which would have ruined her straight-laced image," Special Agent Timothy McGee said.

"Bet she fixed that problem," Palmer guessed.

"She won't be using her work email for that kind of stuff again, I'll tell you that much. Either way, Ensign Cogsworth is facing some serious jail time, because JAG thinks it could be considered blackmail as well as theft," McGee said.

Gibbs' cell phone rang. He glanced at it; it was a number he didn't recognize.

"Gibbs," he said, answering the phone.

" _Gibbs, it's Mac_ ," a female voice said, sounding on the verge of panic.

"Who?" Gibbs asked, confused, as he tried to place the name and the voice.

" _Mackenzington. Did you ever nail that suspect who hit your Marine?_ "

A memory came to mind, one of a woman with dark hair and a quick smile. He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah we did, thanks to you."

" _Good. Well, you remember that favour you said you owed me?_ "

"I do."

" _I'm calling it in_ ," she said. " _I do homecare work now, and one of my clients is a retired four-star admiral, and I just found him at the bottom of a flight of stairs with a broken neck_ ," Mac said, her voice hitching.

Gibbs eyes went wide. "Accident?" he asked.

" _Oh,_ _I very much doubt it_."

"Why?"

" _Because I'm his nurse and I know he hasn't been able to climb those damn stairs for about a year, that's why_ ," Mac shot back, starting to sob. " _He can't even lift his foot past the first step, never mind high enough to break his neck!_ "

Gibbs' eyes went wide. "Stay there. I'm on my way," he said, grabbing his gun, badge, and coat.

As he tore out of the building, Special Agent Nicholas Torres stared at his friends in confusion. "What just happened?"

"I don't know, but you wanna bet we're going to get a call in a bit, telling us to gear up?" Bishop asked.

"I'll check the van," Torres said, referring to the MCRT van that was used to help process crime scenes.

"And I'll get Autopsy ready," Palmer said easily.

As Gibbs tore through NCIS on the way to the motor pool, his memories went back.

 _2006, Bethesda Naval Hospital_

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs watched the tv from his hospital bed, trying to catch up on fifteen years worth of world events. He didn't want to admit it, but his head was swimming. So much had changed. It couldn't have been fifteen years. Really?

There was a knock at his door and he looked up, expecting to see his nurse, but it was a young woman in a grey uniform he didn't recognize. Outside was a black and yellow cart. She had dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, fair skin, and brown eyes that matched the smile on her face.

"Good morning, sir. I'm the housekeeper for the unit today. Would it be okay if I came in and tidied up a bit?" she asked. "I won't take long."

Gibbs grunted. "You don't need my permission," he said.

She smiled wider. "True, but it's nice to be asked, especially when it's someone you don't recognize."

Gibbs conceded she had a point. He watched as she went to her cart and snapped on a pair of gloves then grabbed a few cleaning supplies. She quickly emptied out the garbage bins and cleaned the bathroom. Then she started wiping down around his area.

"That seems like an awful lot of work for a room that's usually pretty clean," he said.

"True, but this is nothing. The areas I'm cleaning are what's known as high-touch areas, areas that are commonly touched and have a higher risk of transmitting a possible contagious infection, which is the last thing we need," the housekeeper said. "Besides, if you think this is bad, you should see what has to be done with an isolation discharge. PPE, bleach wipes, everywhere, everything. This takes me ten minutes. An isolation discharge can take up to an hour."

Gibbs cringed. "You been doing it long?"

"About three years now."

"Must be fun."

"It can get pretty boring sometimes, especially if I do the same unit for several days in a row. I like doing the ER the best."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because I never quite know what's going to happen, and there's always something new to learn. Thanks to my shifts in the ER, I can strip an IV pole, empty out a used catheter bag, and I don't even cringe at the sight of a bloody floor anymore."

"That bad, huh?"

"Amazing how much of a mess nurses and doctors can make when they're trying to save some guy who forgot to put his seatbelt on and went headfirst through the windshield," she said sourly.

Gibbs laughed. "Yeah, that would be a bit of a mess."

"I'm sure you've seen your fair share," she said.

"A bit yeah," he admitted. "Probably look like one too."

She came closer, studying him, then shook her head. "I've seen worse, trust me. One time I was in the ER, I had this one guy, his face was an absolute mess because he and his buddy had gotten into a fight and used broken beer bottles instead of their fists. According to one of my favourite nurses, when the paramedics brought him in, he was drunk and still fighting. Thirty-six stitches and that was only after they knocked him out. Seems his buddy wasn't much better; forty-two stitches, three guards, and two line-backer porters. Fun times." Gibbs couldn't help but cringe. "Anyway, onward and upward. Is there anything you need?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Thank you."

She smiled. "No problem. Go easy on yourself, and if there's anything else you need, like towels or stuff, and I'm around, I'll do what I can."

Gibbs nodded and watched as she left.

She was back the next day, around the same time.

"You're back," he said.

"Looks like this is my unit for the rest of the week," she said easily.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Mac," she said.

"Really?" he asked sceptically.

"Really," she said sarcastically.

"Mac's short for something," he said.

"Yes, it is, and no, I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate it?"

He grinned. "It can't be that bad."

"Wanna bet? Put it this way; Daddy Dearest wanted a boy so he could pass on a male name. He didn't get a boy."

"He got you instead and you got stuck with a god-awful boy name that starts with Mac," Gibbs guessed.

"You gotcha." She looked at his breakfast tray, which he had barely touched. "You need to eat, buster."

"I hate hospital food. Even the coffee sucks."

A gleam came to her eye. "Make you a deal."

"Listening."

"If you eat your lunch, without complaining, I will bring you a cup of the good stuff," she said. "I know where there's a coffee shop that the Navy officers frequent, and I've been told by a few reliable sources that even the Marines approve of the stuff that's there."

Gibbs lit up at that. "If I eat dinner without complaining, you'll tell me your full name."

She groaned, but couldn't resist smiling when Gibbs grinned at her. "Fine. If I hear it from the nurses, _personally_ , that you didn't complain about dinner, I will tell you my full name."

"Deal."

"What's yours?"

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he said, offering her his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said, accepting his hand.

He later accepted the coffee she gave him, and true to her word, it was very good.

The next day, she handed him a note. "Mackenzington Adian Wilbur," he said, reading the note. He grinned. "You're right; that is bad."

"And I will personally put you back in that bed, in a lot more pain, if you ever tell anyone here what my full name is," she threatened.

"Eh, can't be any worse than what Nurse Ratchet has threatened to do to me," he shot back.

"How about bribery?"

"Bourbon?" he asked hopefully.

"Give me a day," she said.

"Deal."

She was back later that day with a small bakery box.

"What are these?" he asked, looking at the sparkling iced cookies.

"Bourbon-laced sugar cookies with bourbon icing," she said sweetly. He looked at her. "At least this stuff won't interfere with any medication you're taking!" she shot back. He couldn't help but laugh.

Before she left, he had a question for her. "If you know so much about nursing, why aren't you one?"

She shrugged. "I've had several people in my family tell me it would be a waste of money because I wouldn't be able to handle the demands of nursing and family."

"What do you think?" Again she shrugged. "Do you want to be a nurse?"

"I would love to. I'd love to do more than just clean up people's messes," she admitted. "But when your own family doesn't think you're cut out for it..." She shrugged again, smiling sadly. "Always been that way with them. Girls don't really count for much in my family. The whole male thing is kinda predominant there, and according to my dad and my lovely brothers, I'm supposed to be taking care of my family and having babies, not taking care of other families."

"Your family's a bunch of selfish chauvinists," he shot back. "If you want to be a nurse, be a nurse. Don't let them stop you. Hell, I think you'd be a damn fine nurse, but that's up to you."

She left shortly after that, promising to think about what he said.

And shortly after, Ziva David showed up.

And Gibbs retired from NCIS after watching PinPin Pula blow himself and a ship up in an act of selfish terrorism, despite his desperate warnings about the man.

Before Gibbs left Bethesda to get on a flight to Mexico, though, he left Mac a note.

" _The only person stopping you is YOU._ "

 _2009_

Gibbs was frustrated. They had a suspect in a case, but they couldn't get near him because the bastard had lawyered up. All they wanted was his finger prints and a DNA sample, but the suspect, a guy by the name of Leon James, was being a jerk about exercising his rights.

As he moved to storm out of the hospital unit, where his suspect was, he was stopped by a tap on his arm. He turned to glare at the brunette who was now standing beside him, then froze.

"Agent Gibbs?" the nurse asked, starting to smile at him.

His brow furrowed, and then he saw her identification badge. "Mackenzie," he read, "LPN."

"Mac?" he asked, confused.

She nodded happily. "I took your advice. I quit letting my family tell me what to do, got a student loan, and graduated as an LPN last year. Bethesda hired me the day I graduated."

Laughing, he hugged her, a hug she returned. "That's great. Is this your unit?"

"It is, yes. What's going on?"

"One of your patients is a suspect in my case, and the bastard's lawyered up."

"What's his name and what's the case?"

"Leon James. I have a Marine who was hit by a truck while out jogging. Found the truck, but the registered owner says he lent it to his buddies, one of which has a known history of drinking and driving. I need his DNA and I need his prints."

"Why him?"

"Because he's the only one in hospital with a broken collarbone and stitches from shattered glass," Gibbs shot back. "The other two buddies aren't."

"If he's got a known history of DUI's, why isn't he in the system?"

"Because the bastard's never been caught. He's been suspected of a few hit and runs, but they were never proven."

"And your Marine? How is he?"

"Looking at possible career-ending injuries."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You need to go get a cup of coffee. I'll be right back; I have to check on my patient. I think he needs something."

"The coffee here sucks!"

"So does your attitude, but we can't all be perfect angels, now can we?" she shot back.

And with that, she grabbed a binder from behind the desk, a binder that had his suspect's name on it, before bustling off down the hall.

A short time later, Gibbs left the hospital, grinning. Hiding under his jacket, wrapped in a garbage bag, was a used drinking cup and a used thermometer. Abby was going to be very happy, and the best part? James' lawyer wasn't, and it was all perfectly legal.

Three days later, a delivery company dropped off a very nice bouquet of roses for Mac. Tucked in the roses was a business card belonging to NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. On the back was a message.

" _I owe you a favour._ "

Back at NCIS, Director Leon Vance stared at the bill from the florist. "Two dozen roses? And you're sending the bill to NCIS? Why?" he demanded to Gibbs.

Gibbs smirked. "Confidential informant. Helped me nail a suspect who had lawyered up."

"Legally or?"

Gibbs just smirked and walked out of Vance's office. Vance continued to stare at the bill. "Eighty bucks for a dozen long-stem roses. Must be some informant," he muttered.

 _Present:_

A four-star admiral was dead, and his nurse was adamant that it was murder. Gibbs could only hope he got there in time, because if he didn't, then his absolute best lead in a possible murder case could disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Why should we believe you?" the detective demanded to the brunette woman sitting on the stairs outside of the house, a house that was surrounded by police cars, an ambulance, and lots of flashing lights.

Gibbs scowled when he heard that.

"You were the first on scene, supposedly. For all we know, you could have killed the guy, then called for help to cover that up," the detective continued.

Mac, for it was Mac, glared at the detective, a lanky guy in a dark blue overcoat that looked like it had seen better days. Beside him, wearing a patient, resigned look on her face, was a woman with her black hair pulled in a bun. "I've known the guy for eight months, you moron! He was my patient, and one I was very fond of! Why the hell would I kill him? Besides, he was two hundred pounds soaking wet, and it took two of us just to lift him high enough to get him into the damn tub! Which, by the way, wasn't due for another damn day! So no, I couldn't have lifted him high enough to get him that far down the damn stairs because I'm not that blarg-ass strong enough! And I'm not saying another blinking word until NCIS gets here!"

Gibbs grinned, watching. Mac had gotten a backbone over the years and it was fun to watch.

"Why would NCIS come here?" the detective demanded.

"Because Admiral Kent was a retired four-star admiral, that's why, and that means it's NCIS's case, not yours, because you are a four-star jackass!" Mac shot back.

Before the situation could escalate, Gibbs stepped in, holding up his badge.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. She's mine, and so is the admiral," he said, seeing the relief pour over Mac's face.

The first detective glared at him, but the second detective stepped forward. "Detective Campbell, DCPD. You were fast," she said, offering her hand.

"Word gets around fast," he said, shrugging. "What do we got?" he asked, sensing that Campbell was the more level-headed of the two.

"No sign of forced entry, nothing appears to be taken, just an old guy with a broken neck at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Could be an accident," she said.

"Except his nurse is saying otherwise," Gibbs said.

"She is. Says the admiral was physically incapable of climbing those stairs high enough to cause that kind of injury," Campbell said.

"And your partner?"

"Mmm, Shane is always quick to suspect the first person on scene until proven otherwise," Campbell admitted. "We've had a few naughty nurses, and he thought she might be another Daniela Poggiali in the making."

Gibbs grunted. "Well, I'm sure you can understand that this is now my case, and so is she," he said, putting his phone to his ear.

"I understand. Shane won't be happy about that, but I am; you get to deal with the political mess that comes with dealing with a high-ranking muckety muck," Campbell said. She walked back over to her partner and quietly spoke to him out of earshot of Gibbs.

"Yeah, boss?" McGee asked when he answered his phone.

"Gear up. Got a dead admiral," he said. He told McGee the address and McGee assured him the team was on the way. Then, after watching Shane and Campbell leave, he went over to Mac and sat down next to her. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. Thanks for coming so fast."

"Nice job on the detective," he said. "What do you know?"

"His name is Admiral Peter Kent, retired. I work for St. Michaels Home Care, a company that's contracted out by the Navy to provide home care for retired and injured Navy and Marine personnel. Admiral Kent was one of my patients, has been for at least eight months," Mac said, wiping her eyes. She took a shuddering breath. "I check on him pretty much every day, in the morning. Help him get dressed, get him his breakfast, make sure he's got lunch within reach, check his vitals, maybe go for a walk with him if he feels up to it, that sort of thing. Takes me a couple of hours, but I don't mind."

"You liked the guy," Gibbs guessed.

She nodded. "He was sweet, very much a gentleman, always had a story to tell, always fussing over me." Her eyes welled up with tears. "I came in this morning, the way I always do, and I saw him on the floor, at the bottom of the stairs, and I knew something was wrong."

"Did you touch him?"

She nodded. "No pulse. Cold to the touch, and his head was wrong. I've seen enough bodies to know what a neck should look like, and his neck was so wrong, and I _knew_ there was no way in _hell_ he could have fallen down those stairs," she sobbed.

Gibbs put his arm around her shoulders and held her as she cried.

When McGee pulled up to the address Gibbs had given them, in the MCRT van, he saw Gibbs sitting with a woman in a nurse's uniform, a nurse who looked like she'd been crying.

"Hey boss," he said, joining them. He couldn't shake the feeling that the nurse was familiar.

"He boss, what do we got?" Torres asked, joining them.

"Retired four-star admiral, found dead by his nurse," Gibbs said.

"Accident?" Bishop asked.

"He couldn't climb the stairs he was found at the bottom of," Gibbs said, jerking his head towards the open door.

"I'm on photos," Bishop said, holding up the camera and going inside.

"Think you can show us around, see if anything's missing?" Torres asked the nurse gently.

She nodded, wiping her eyes, and standing up. As she went inside with McGee, Gibbs spoke quietly to McGee. "Home care nurse, been with him for a long time. I want her under protective custody. Said he was acting funny when she spoke to him yesterday, and she may know something."

McGee nodded, trusting his boss's gut.

Inside, Torres followed the nurse around, having already introduced himself, and she called herself Mac. "How do you know Gibbs?" he asked.

"Met him a long time ago. I was a housekeeper at Bethesda when he was in ICU, back in two-oh-six, I think. Anyway, he encouraged me to ignore my male-dominated family and chase after my own dreams of nursing, and I did," Mac said, walking around the room carefully.

"And you stayed in touch," Torres guessed.

"Sort of. Ran into him a few years ago, helped him get some stuff on a suspect that was a patient of mine, and he said he owed me a favour," Mac admitted.

"And you called it in," Torres said.

"Yup." She shook her head. "As far as I can tell, nothing is missing, but if it's possible, check his computer," she said, pointing to the computer that was sitting in front of a chair, facing the fireplace. It was an odd spot for the computer, but Torres had seen stranger places.

"Was he working on something?" Torres asked.

Mac nodded. "Some tell-all book Admiral Kent said was going to make heads roll. He was obsessed with finishing it, said he was running out of time. I didn't know what he meant, at the time, but I do now, I think."

Torres nodded. "We'll look for it. How'd you get in?"

"I have a key. He gave it to me months ago," Mac admitted. "It was easier than him constantly trying to get to the door, when the fastest he could move was a shuffle with his walker. Bad knees."

"Okay. You said he couldn't climb the stairs. So where did he sleep?" Torres asked.

"A guest room down the hall. The evening nurse was supposed to help him get ready for bed and stuff, but sometimes he'd insist on staying up, so they would let him. He could be very stubborn about that," Mac said, leading Torres down the hall to a room with a bed, a bed that didn't look like it had been touched, neatly made as it still was.

It was a nice room, and tidy. On the bedside table was a framed photograph of a couple. The young man in the photo looked like a younger version of Admiral Kent, and Torres guessed that the woman beside him was his wife.

"What happened to his wife?" Torres asked.

"Megan? She died about a year before. Admiral Kent always spoke of her, missed her. Hope he's with her now," Mac said.

There was a knock on the door and Torres looked up; it was McGee, and he had a concerned look on his face. Torres joined him.

"What's up?"

"We may have a problem. The computer's hard drive has been completely wiped clean," McGee said. "And I mean _completely._ "

Torres stared at him. "And the admiral was supposed to have some kind of tell-all book on that thing?" he asked.

"We could have a problem," McGee said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Neighbors are saying they heard nothing, saw nothing, except a light in the living room being turned off around nine last night," Gibbs said, as they regrouped. "Called him a nice old man with plenty of adventure tales to tell." Mac was in Gibbs' car, out of earshot but not out of sight.

"The back door was picked, which is probably how the killer got in," Bishop said.

"Prints?" Gibbs asked.

"Did what I could but I doubt Kasie will get a match to anyone," Bishop said. "I'm thinking gloves. Couldn't even find foot prints outside."

"Hard drive was wiped clean. I might be able to recover something but I'll have to take it back to NCIS," McGee said.

"Any sign of this book he was supposedly writing?" Gibbs asked.

"I found a receipt for a courier that picked up two packages yesterday," McGee said. "Might be the manuscript. I'll call them and see if someone knows what was delivered and where."

"According to Nurse Mackenzie, Admiral Kent was supposed to be in bed by about eight-thirty or so, but would sometimes stay up later," Torres said. "She would come in around eight-thirty in the morning, let herself in with the key to the front door, make them a cup of coffee, and then help him get up, get dressed, and have breakfast."

"Palmer?" Gibbs asked.

Palmer looked up from his preparation of transport of the body, with Torres helping. "Liver temp says some time around midnight, likely after eight-thirty."

"Which fits with what Nurse Mackenzie says," Torres said. "According to her, she leaves around three-thirty and the evening shift nurse takes over until bedtime at eight-thirty."

"Preliminary looks are saying cause of death was a broken neck, but I don't see any bruises or scrapes to suggest he fell down the stairs," Palmer said. "I'll know more when I get him on my table. Poor old guy. To have survived years of being a SEAL, only to be murdered at home."

"Anything missing, other than a book?" Gibbs asked.

"Not according to Nurse Mackenzie," Torres said. "Didn't even look like his safe had been touched."

"How did she know?" Gibbs asked.

"From what she says, the safe required a step ladder to reach, which she and I had to use in order to reach it, and the admiral could no longer do that himself. One day he wanted to show her something in the safe, so he trusted her with the combination about a month ago. Because of her habit of remembering numbers, she was able to remember the combination," Torres said. "There was some pretty valuable stuff in there, like a bunch of challenge coins, a silver-plated gun, and some jewelry Nurse Mackenzie said belonged to the admiral's deceased wife. Oh, and a whole bunch of papers we may need to go through."

"Do so," Gibbs said.

"Doing so," Torres said. "One other weird thing; Nurse Mackenzie and I found Admiral Kent's slippers under his desk, in the living room. With his nice robe and pyjamas, he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who would try and go upstairs barefoot. Nurse Mackenzie said he usually wore them in the evening."

"Are they the kind that can come off easily?" Bishop asked.

"Yeah; no back heel," Torres said. "I'm guessing that desk is where he died. The chair was put back just a little too neatly for an old guy who could only shuffle, at best."

"What's upstairs?" Gibbs asked.

"Three more bedrooms, only one that had a bed. Doesn't look like they're being used for anything, other than storage. Oh, and stairs to the attic," Torres said. "Took a peak but nothing really stood out, other than a heck of a lot of dust. Don't think that's been cleaned out since Admiral Kent moved here."

"One thing we might want to ask Nurse Mackenzie about, boss," McGee said. He handed Gibbs a framed photo of Admiral Kent and Mac. Both were in fancy dress, with the admiral in his old Navy blue dress uniform, and Mac wearing a long sleeve long dark blue velvet dress, her hair and face done up, looking classically simple yet elegant. She even had a corsage on one shoulder. The photo suggested they had attended some kind of formal event together but there was nothing in the photo to suggest what that was. Admiral Kent looked proud and Mac seemed to be smiling and blushing. "If Nurse Mackenzie was just Admiral Kent's nurse, then what's with this?"

"A whole lotta questions," Gibbs said.

 _Later, back at NCIS:_

"What do we got?" Gibbs asked, striding into the bullpen. McGee was in Kasie's lab, trying to salvage the memory from Admiral Kent's computer.

"Four-star Admiral Thomas Kent, retired, a well-decorated SEAL, with plenty of missions, and plenty of medals, under his belt," Torres said, bringing up a file on the plasma, showing a proud man with white hair, in a Navy dress uniform, with a wide ribbon board, his stars counting four. "He was receiving in-home care by St. Michaels Home Care, and Mackenzie Wilbur was his primary day nurse, had been for about eight months."

"Why her?" Gibbs asked.

"From what I understand, she was one of the few he managed to get along with, to the point he personally requested her as his primary," Bishop said. "Because St. Michaels is funded by the Navy, they didn't dare say no."

"Rank has its privileges," Gibbs said.

"Didn't hurt that Mackenzie didn't seem to mind. There were two other rotating nurses, Sarah Bell and Jackson Wiseman, who looked in on him in the evenings," Bishop said. "Mackenzie is in one of the conference rooms, and Sarah and Jackson are coming in."

"Family?" Gibbs asked.

"Wife Megan died last year, natural causes. Only son Jonathan died about four years ago, vehicle accident, leaving behind his second wife, April, and a son, Lieutenant Thomas Kent, also a Navy SEAL, current stationed overseas," Torres said, bringing up a file photo of a handsome man, with pale blue eyes and dark hair, in a Navy dress uniform.

"We saw a lot of photos of him in the house," Bishop said.

"Jonathan's first wife?" Gibbs asked.

"Anna Kent died in 1994, when Lieutenant Kent was about eight. Death certificate says Leukemia, specifically Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, or ALL," Torres said. "It's fast and fatal if left untreated. Jonathan married April about two years later."

"What about Mac?" Gibbs asked.

"Mackenzie Wilbur, registered LPN, graduated in 2008, first job was Bethesda, where records say she was housekeeper there for about three years before. How she got into home care, I don't know, but when I spoke to her supervisor and coworkers on the phone, they had nothing but praise for her," Bishop said.

"Her name was originally Mackenzington," Gibbs said.

"Yeah, I know," Bishop said, "because when I was running her, I noticed her housekeeping name and her nursing name were slightly different, so I checked. Just before she graduated, she had her name legally changed, shortening her first name and changing her middle name from Adian to Amy. The court house worker I spoke to, a friend of mine, said she remembered Mackenzie. The reason she changed her name was so it would fit on her name badge. That, and she hated it."

Gibbs chuckled. "Yeah, she tried to bribe me into not telling anyone else about her full name, once I got it out of her. Those were very good bourbon cookies."

"How did you meet her?" Torres asked.

"Wound up in hospital in 2006, she was the housekeeper for the unit during my stay, and we got chatting," Gibbs said. "Ran into her again a few years later, found out she'd achieved her dream of nursing, and she helped us out with a case, because one of her patients was one of our suspects. Told her I owed her a favour."

"And she just called it in," Torres said.

Gibbs' cell rang. "Yeah, Gibbs," he said.

" _Sorry to bother you, but I just got a weird phone call_ ," Mac said.

"Be right there," he said. He hung up. "Mac just got a weird phone call. See if there's any connection between Mac and the admiral other than nursing, and if not, find me a suspect." He headed for the conference room.

"Could this have anything to do with that book Mac said Admiral Kent was writing?" Bishop asked.

"Won't know until we get a copy of the manuscript," Torres said.

"Which we may have just gotten," Gibbs said, coming back to his desk, Mac in tow. "A bike courier just dropped off a package for Mac at St. Michaels, and it's from Admiral Kent. One of Mac's coworkers says the package feels like a thick sheaf of papers."

"The manuscript," Bishop guessed, watching as Gibbs grabbed his gun and coat.

"That would be my guess," Gibbs said, heading for the elevator with Mac.

"Smart man," Torres said to Bishop. "He sent a hard copy of the book to the one person he trusted."

"Let's just hope that book can tell us why someone thought it was worth killing a helpless old man over," Bishop said.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As Gibbs drove through the city on the way to the St. Michaels' satellite office that Mac reported to, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. She was quiet and pale, fiddling with her phone.

"What can you tell me about Admiral Kent?" he asked.

"Navy SEAL, shot a couple of times in the line of duty, including his left leg, above the knee," Mac said absently. "Enlisted in the Navy in time to see action during World War II, married Megan when he was twenty-two, had a son, Jonathan, who died in a vehicle accident about four years ago; he was t-boned by a really big Army truck, at an intersection on his way home from working at a construction site at a nearby Army base."

Gibbs winced. Mac continued.

"His second wife, April, tried to sue the Army for wrongful death, but lost her case when it was discovered that Jonathan had been on his phone, arguing with her at the time of the accident, and that he had run the light. Also, the construction job had finished days ago, and the reason he was at the base was because he was visiting his girlfriend. April had been days away from being served divorce papers."

"Sounds like you and Admiral Kent talked a lot," Gibbs said.

Mac nodded. "He was just a lonely old man that I enjoyed spending time with, and April was a greedy, conniving witch. Be warned, she's got a restraining order against her."

"Okay."

"She wasn't allowed near the house, me, or Tom."

"Why?"

"She slapped him one time, about five months ago, during an argument over him refusing to move into a retirement home and sell his home," Mac said. "When I stepped in, she turned her wrath on me, and I not only kicked her out of the house, I also called the cops. St. Michaels and JAG helped Tom get the order against her, citing elder abuse."

"Good to know," Gibbs said. "Did you ever meet Lieutenant Kent?"

Mac smiled softly. "I did."

"And?"

"We're on very good terms with each other," she said. "God," she said, rubbing her temples, "this is going to hurt Tom like crazy. Has he been notified yet?"

"We sent a message to his commander, but we haven't heard back from him yet," Gibbs said. "Were they close?"

"Very. They would Skype about once a week or so, which is how I met him."

Gibbs nodded, and Mac fell silent; Gibbs suspected she was grieving.

At the office, upon introduction of Gibbs, the receptionist, a nice black lady with a thick mass of tight curls, whom Mac introduced as Sasha, handed them the package. After checking it over carefully, Gibbs opened it with a letter opener Sasha kindly provided. Inside was a thick sheaf of white papers, with a title on the front page.

"Operation: Dead Wrong, by Thomas Kent," Gibbs read aloud. He flipped to the next page; it was the synopsis. "In March of 1965, eight SEALs and three Navy officers were sent on a covert mission in Palestine, to capture a suspected spy. That night, five men died. Today, there are only two survivors of the ill-fated mission, a mission that was quickly covered up. This is their story."

"Wow," Sasha said, reading upside down. "Sounds like a Tom Clancy novel."

"Going to make for interesting reading, that's for sure," Mac said, waving at a tall woman with grey-streaked hair pulled back into a stern bun at the back of her head. The woman was dressed in office clothes and had come into the main area of the office.

"Mackenzie," the woman said.

"Brenda," Mac said. "This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. Gibbs, this is Brenda Irving, my boss."

Brenda sniffed, and Gibbs nodded at her. "What exactly is going on here? I understand a patient of ours died, but I fail to see why NCIS would be involved."

"Admiral Kent was Navy, retired or not, and we have some concerns about the nature of his death," Gibbs said.

"So?" Brenda huffed. "People die, especially old people. What makes Admiral Kent so special?"

"The fact that he was murdered?" Gibbs shot back, seeing both Sasha and Mac quietly cringing at Brenda's abrupt behaviour.

Brenda's eyebrows went up. "I see. And how does this pertain to Mackenzie? If she's no longer needed with Admiral Kent, I'm sure I can think of at least several other patients that she could be helping instead."

"Admiral Kent sent this book to Nurse Mackenzie the day before he died," Gibbs said. "She also spent considerable amount of time with him, which means she's a witness, and until I'm certain she's safe, she's under federal protection. Your patients can wait. My murder investigation can't."

"Hmph. Fine. But I'm not paying her for time not worked," Brenda snapped, before stalking back into her office.

Mac groaned softly. "And now you know why we call her Old Ironbritches," she said, as another woman came out of another office and quickly came up to Mac. This woman, slightly smaller, slightly more rounder, and clearly more friendlier, her hair a red mop of shoulder-length curls, gave Mac a warm hug.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" the woman asked.

Mac gave her a watery smile. "Smarts like crazy, and I think it's going to for a long time, but I'm okay. This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. Gibbs, meet Kathy Bonaire, affectionately known as Bunny around here." Bunny had a firm handshake and gave him a quick assessment with her eyes, before nodding. "NCIS is investigating Admiral Kent's death," she explained to Bunny, who nodded.

"You don't worry about Brenda, or anyone else," Bunny said. "We all know how much the admiral meant to you. If you need to take time off, or hang around with this fellow, you just say so, and I'll make sure you're covered."

"Agent Gibbs has some concerns I might be a target of whoever it was that murdered Admiral Kent, because of how long I knew him," Mac explained. "So yeah, I'm probably going to have to go off the radar for a while."

Bunny nodded. "Don't worry about anything. You do what you have to do. Have you heard from Tom lately? This is going to do a number on the poor lad."

"I'm sure he's been told by now, but I'm going to try and contact him in a bit, if I can even reach him," Mac said. "He said he might be out of reach for a day or two, last time I spoke to him."

"Of course. Well, you have my direct number, so if you need anything, you just call me," Bunny said, nodding firmly.

"Thanks, Bun, I appreciate this," Mac said, patting the hand that was on her shoulder.

"You take care of her," Bunny said to Gibbs. "She's a good one."

"Yes ma'am," Gibbs said, smiling.

Bunny nodded, satisfied, and bustled off.

"Brenda handles our financing and payroll and Bunny is basically Human Resources, Counseling, Patient Support Network, and all-around cuddle bunny," Mac explained as they left the building. "I don't quite know all of her history, but from what I've gathered, she's seen it all, done it all, and got the shirt. She's not just another nurse, or one of my supervisors, she's a friend. Oh, and when it comes to the safety of her nurses, don't cross her. I once saw her stand up to a guy who was trying to go after his ex-wife during a bit of a nasty separation. Domestic violence thing; he tried the whole yelling and intimidation thing, she bopped him in the nose, grabbed him by his ear, shoved him out the door, kicked him in the nuts, and sent him sprawling in front of a couple of cops, then told him to never set foot on any of St. Michaels properties again, or really face her wrath. Cops refused to place charges against her, citing self-defense, but charged the guy with a few things."

"Good to know," Gibbs said, chuckling.

Back at NCIS, Torres and Bishop were doing interviews, and right now they were dealing with none other than April Kent.

April Kent was one of those rare people that immediately made Torres want to check and see if his wallet was still in his pants. Then check his wallet to see if his cash and cards were still there. And, if he wore jewelry, to check and see if that was still there. And his watch.

And the crocodile tears? Torres found himself looking at Bishop with wide eyes. How was that woman crying and not ruining six inches of thick mascara and eyelash extensions? With her bleach blonde hair with highlights, a sweater that displayed her generous (but wrinkly) bust, and a jacket and purse that were more show than sensible, Torres swore a certain part of his male anatomy was trying to curl up back into his body, especially when she tried to turn on the charm with him when they were initially introduced.

"The next time I need something to keep my friend down, all I gotta do is picture Mrs. Kent going down on me," Torres thought sourly.

"How did that poor, sweet man die?" April sobbed in the conference room, dabbing her eyes with yet another tissue. "I loved him like a dear, dear father. He was so sweet, so charming. Who could have possibly wanted to harm him?"

"We're currently trying to find that out," Bishop hedged. "Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?"

April's botox-plumped lips curled in disgust and she leaned forward, whispering conspiring, "Have you looked at that nurse of his? That horrible woman wouldn't let me even see my poor father-in-law! Called the police on me one day, the crazy woman! She wanted dear Tom's money all for herself!"

"I see," Torres said, not seeing at all.

"Here," she said, taking out her cell phone and bringing up some pictures of Mac and a dark-haired man looking and acting as if they were a couple in love, not seeming to realize they were being watched. Both agents recognized the man as Lieutenant Kent. While Bishop sent the pictures to her work email, April continued. "Did you know, when my step-son came home for a short visit a few weeks ago, she absolutely monopolized his time? He couldn't even come and visit me, his dear sweet step-mummy, without her constantly texting him about something! I saw them together one day, and they were acting all lovey-dovey. I think she conned him into sleeping with her, just to make sure she got her dirty little hands on my Tom's money, and the house, which I'm sure is worth an absolute fortune on the market." Then her eyes lit up. "Do you know when Tom's body will be released? You know, just so I can start planning his funeral and all that," she asked, tears forgotten.

"Umm, our medical examiner is still examining Admiral Kent. As soon as it's done, and the case is closed, we'll release him to the funeral home,"

Bishop said. "And that could be some time."

"Well, it's not like he has anything to say anymore, anyway, so do you think you could hurry it up? There's a lot of planning to do and the sooner I get started, the better," April huffed.

"Because of Admiral Kent's long career, our investigation could take some time," Torres said. "We will let you know when we're ready to release the body."

April scowled at that.

"Do you know anything about a book Admiral Kent may have been writing?" Bishop asked.

April looked at her scornfully. "Sugar -"

"Agent Bishop," Bishop cut in bluntly. "My name is Agent Bishop."

"Whatever. Thanks to that nurse of his, I couldn't get near him long enough to find out if he'd even had a decent cup of coffee, never mind written a book," April shot back. "He idolized that crazy woman. You should really look into her."

"We're looking into _everyone_ ," Bishop said pointedly.

"Good. I plan to have her fired for all the grief she put me through," April said, a nasty look crossing her face.

"Which would automatically make you a suspect," Bishop said sweetly.

" _What?_ " April shrieked angrily. "Why? I didn't do anything to him! I was nowhere _near_ that place!"

"Because Nurse Mackenzie took care of Admiral Kent for so long, she may know something, and you wanting her fired suggests you may be trying to hide something," Bishop said easily. She smiled sweetly. "Goes without saying but, ah, don't leave town," she said as she and Torres stood up. "An agent will show you out and we'll be in touch."

Torres smiled at April. "We're sorry for your loss," he said, not meaning a word of it.

Once the two agents were out of the room the room and out of earshot, Torres shivered as if he had just seen a snake.

"Blehargh!" he said. "Poor dear Tom my shapely ass!"

" _And a very nice shapely ass_ ," Bishop thought absently. "Still, those were interesting pictures of Nurse Mackenzie and Lieutenant Kent," she said thoughtfully. "And her calling the police on April? I wonder if there's any truth to that."

"One way to find out," Torres said, going to his computer. A few quick keystrokes and they had their answer. "Oh yeah, here we go. Couple of months ago the police were called to Admiral Kent's house and wound up arresting April on charges of domestic assault; seems she slapped Admiral Kent during an argument, and Nurse Mackenzie stepped in. A restraining order was recommended, and gotten, and April is not allowed anywhere near Nurse Mackenzie, her place of work, the Admiral, or his house."

"Good to know," Bishop said. "Should we be checking his life insurance policy? Kinda strikes me as the greedy type."

"Strikes me as the skanky snake type," he said. "But yeah, let's check, and then let's check his will."

McGee appeared, scowling. "No luck on the hard drive; it was wiped cleaner than the day it came out of the factory."

Both Torres and Bishop winced. "So no hope of recovering the manuscript from it, then?" Torres asked.

"Nada," McGee said.

"Well, Nurse Mackenzie got a strange call from St. Michaels, and she and Gibbs took off. Seems a bike courier dropped off a package for her," Bishop said.

"The manuscript?" McGee asked.

"Hopefully," Torres said. "In the meantime, we want a peek at Admiral Kent's life insurance policy and his will, thanks to his not-so-lovely step-daughter."

"Bad?" McGee asked.

"She could be a candidate for _Real Housewives of D.C._ ," Bishop said. "Skanky, bitchy, fake boobs and fake tears, the works."

"Oof," McGee said, wincing.

"Thinking she's money hungry," Bishop said. "And she might stand to profit very nicely from Admiral Kent's death."

"Then let's find out," McGee said, getting to work.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gibbs strode back into NCIS and dropped a thick pile of papers on his desk. "We got the manuscript," he said.

"Anything interesting?" McGee asked.

"Something about a mission gone wrong in 1965," Gibbs said. "Eight SEALs, three Navy officers, suspected spy in Palestine. Five people died that night."

"Wow," Bishop said.

"Where's Nurse Mackenzie?" Torres asked.

"Getting some coffee with Sloane," Gibbs said. "Update."

Bishop, Torres, and McGee joined Gibbs around the plasma. "Okay, so we met April Kent. Fake boobs, fake eyelashes, fake tears, very money hungry, and going to be very, very cranky in the near future. Admiral Kent's life insurance lists Lieutenant Kent as his beneficiary, and it's to the tune of over five grand," Torres said. "Saw a card for a lawyer when I was going through his desk and Bishop reached out to the law firm."

"Admiral Kent's lawyer is on his way over," Bishop said. "We explained the situation, and he agreed to let us take a peek at the will. Short of the long, though, April Kent gets nothing and Lieutenant Kent gets everything. Oh, and when I asked about Nurse Mackenzie, the lawyer did admit she gets some jewelry that belonged to Admiral Kent's wife. Beyond that, lock, stock, and house go to the admiral's grandson."

"Hard drive was wiped completely clean, beyond what I can do," McGee said.

"Oh, and you might want to ask Nurse Mackenzie about the nature of her relationship with Lieutenant Kent," Bishop said. She toggled the clicker, and the photos that April had shown her and Torres earlier came up.

"Looking real couply there," Torres said.

"When were these taken?" Gibbs asked.

"Don't know, but if that's the movie poster for _Christopher Robin_ I'm seeing there, which came out in August, then I would say some time between August and September," Torres said.

"Been running a background on Nurse Mackenzie," McGee said. "So far nothing unusual in her finances, but she's been getting a lot of text messages from a number originating in Afghanistan, where Lieutenant Kent is currently stationed."

"What kind of text messages?" Gibbs asked.

McGee brought up a screen image. "If I didn't know better, without seeing those pictures, I'd say Nurse Mackenzie and Lieutenant Kent were dating," he said. "These look like the same kind of messages I send to Deliah," he continued, referring to his wife.

"Including the bedroom references?" Bishop teased.

"Hey, don't knock it 'till you tried it," McGee shot back. "Besides, you were married once, remember?"

"I'd like to forget, thank you very much," Bishop groused.

"Back on track. Does Mac have anything to gain by Admiral Kent's death?" Gibbs asked.

"So far, no," McGee said. "But if she's in a relationship with Admiral Kent's grandson, that could change things."

"Mac said April had a restraining order against Admiral Kent," Gibbs said.

"She does. Not allowed anywhere near the admiral, his house, Nurse Mackenzie, or her work place," Torres said. "Police report says she slapped Admiral Kent and Nurse Mackenzie stepped in. She got nailed with domestic assault charges and the restraining order."

"She wanted to know when we'd be releasing Admiral Kent's body so she could start planning his funeral," Bishop said. "Oh, and she was sure the house was worth a fortune on the market right now."

"Not for her, it ain't," McGee said.

"Keep digging. If Mac has anything to do with the admiral's death, I want to know about it," Gibbs said, going to his desk to call Sloane and have her bring Mac to an interrogation room.

"And if she doesn't?" McGee asked.

"Then we start looking at what happened in 1965 and find out why five guys died during a mission that was supposedly covered up," Gibbs shot back.

In the interrogation room, Gibbs didn't let Mac get too comfortable before pouncing.

"Explain these," he said, slapping copies of April's pictures down in front of Mac. "Were you involved with Lieutenant Kent?" he demanded.

Seated next to him, Sloane watched Mac carefully. She had to give Mac credit; she didn't flinch or back down. Instead, Sloane saw longing come into her eyes, as if she was missing the lieutenant, as she studied the pictures.

"Not were, am," Mac corrected, taking out her cell phone and showing Gibbs and Sloane a rather sexy picture of a bare chested Lieutenant Kent, who had an equally sexy grin on his face, and was possibly wearing nothing under the sheet that was draped low around his waist, as he reclined on a rumpled bed. "And yes, I think the admiral knew. In fact, I'm pretty sure he had a hand in it," she continued, showing them a selfie shot of her and Lieutenant Kent, both grinning at the camera, their arms around each other. It was a typical couple selfie shot, Sloane realized, one that spoke volumes about the relationship.

"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked.

"You saw the family photos at his place, right?" Gibbs nodded. "Well, shortly after I started working with Admiral Kent, we were talking about family one day and he showed me a really nice photo of Tom in his Navy uniform, doing the typical grandfather brag thing. I admitted I thought Tom was cute, and the old bugger got that gleam in his eye, the one I later realized that meant he was up to something."

"He set you up," Sloane guessed.

"He did, I'm sure of it. A few days later, his computer chimes and he asks me to get it. Turns out it was Tom, calling to Skype with his grandfather." Mac grinned as she remembered. "He comes on, and he just stares at me, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then he says ' _Wow._ ' And my face catches fire." Sloane grinned. "He makes some crack about when did his grandfather hire a maid, because if he did, he'd be coming home more often. I told him to watch his mouth because I was his grandfather's nurse, not his maid, and if he wasn't careful, I'd figure out how to get an enema prescribed to him. He asked if I knew he was a SEAL, and I said, 'So?' He may be Mister Macho Man, but wait until I have a needle, and he has to drop his pants. One SEAL I did that to, he did a face-plant when he saw the needle, so don't talk to me about being tough when a quarter of his guys are still screaming pussies around needles. Tom almost fell off his chair laughing."

"And it went from there?" Gibbs asked, with Sloane sniggering at the mental image of a big, muscular SEAL fainting at the sight of a needle.

Mac nodded. "Tom got the admiral to give him my private email address and it went from friendly flirting to some pretty racy pictures. It got to the point that we were exchanging emails pretty much every day, then texting, talking about anything, everything, and Skyping every chance we got. When he came home about a month before his birthday, he stayed with the admiral and I was invited over for dinner. It was fun trying to sneak out of the admiral's place the next morning."

Sloane grinned at the blush on Mac's face. "He got an early birthday present, huh?" she guessed.

Mac nodded. "It was easier to talk to Tom about the admiral than it was April, especially after she was slapped with the restraining order. Trust me, she didn't take kindly to that, trying to start a fight with me at the office, or get me fired. Good thing Bunny already knew what was going on, and banned her from any of the offices. The admiral later told me he had set up his life insurance policy so that his next of kin was Tom, not April, and that on his death, Tom would inherit everything. April would get absolutely nothing, not even a say in his funeral arrangements."

"Ouch," Sloane said, as Gibbs made a note. "Why the hate?"

"Aside from the general entitlement thing, I have no idea. Tom had no love for her either, mentioned she slapped him around a few times as a teenager when he got a tad mouthy with her, but..." Mac said, shrugging. "From what I understand, Jonathan married April when Tom was about ten, and from what both Tom's said, April was a real piece of work," Mac said. "Having tangled with her, I'm inclined to agree. When she looked at the admiral, she didn't see an old man, she saw dollar signs."

"Did she know about the book?" Sloane asked.

"I don't know. The restraining order was issued about three months ago and, after Bunny called the cops on her the last time, she pretty much left us alone. Tom started working on the book about two months ago," Mac said. "He was obsessed with finishing it. Have you had a chance to read it?"

"We're going through it now," Sloane said.

Mac nodded. "Look, maybe getting involved with Tom Junior could be considered an ethics violation, and if that's the case, then fine, I'll take my lumps, but as for me and Admiral Tom, I was genuinely very fond of him. He was like a favourite elderly uncle or grandfather. I would have never hurt him, ever. I just know that he was determined to tell the truth about something, something that he said cost five good guys their lives." Mac fingered in of the photos, one that showed her and Lieutenant Kent in a tender embrace, with him smiling down at her. "Would it be possible, if you don't mind, if I could get a copy of this? I think Tom might like it too."

"We'll see what we can do," Gibbs said, gathering up the pictures.

Gibbs and Sloane left the interrogation room. "What do you think?" Gibbs asked.

"There's no hesitation in her voice or mannerisms," Sloane said. "No finger pointing, just statement of facts, and genuine emotions when she talks about both Kents. That blush? That's the blush that comes from remembering something very erotic. I see it on Bishop's face when I remind her of the time she saw Torres shirtless. And that photo? Whoo, that grin screams promises of hot nights and hotter sex."

Gibbs snorted in amusement. "Yeah, she's telling the truth," he said, trusting his gut. "She cared about Admiral Kent."

"And April Kent?"

"Trouble, and a possible suspect."

"Nothing like a woman scorned."

"Trust me, I know all about that," he said sourly. At Sloane's puzzled look, he explained. "One of my ex-wives tried to use my head for golf practice."

"She must've been teed off," Sloane quipped, laughing at the glare Gibbs gave her.

Then his phone dinged, signalling an incoming message. It was from Mac.

"She wants to know if she could say good-bye to the admiral," he said to Sloane.

"Let her. See what she does. I don't think she had anything to do with his murder, but I could be wrong," Sloane said, "and she could be a damn good liar."

"If that's the case, then we're both in trouble," Gibbs said, going back into the room.

In the morgue, Gibbs watched as Palmer lead Mac to the table where Admiral Kent lay, his body covered up to his shoulders.

Then both men watched as Mac, her eyes filling with tears, gently brushed Admiral Kent's hair to one side.

"You crazy old fool. I knew you missed Megan, but did you have to be in such a hurry to leave that you didn't give me time to tell you how much I cared about you? You were the father I'd always wanted, and the friend whose company I always enjoyed," she whispered, tears rolling down her face. She looked up when she felt Palmer's gently hand on her shoulder. "As a nurse, we're taught to not get close, emotionally, to our patients but ask any of us, and we'll all tell you there's always that one patient that manages to get your guard down," she said to him.

"And Admiral Kent did," Palmer guessed.

"And it's going to hurt for a long, long, long time," Mac said, sobbing. Then she yelled at the body, jabbing a finger at it. "You bastard! You had better damn well be waiting for me when it's my turn, or, I swear, when I finally catch up to you, I am going to rip wide surgical tape off your furry chest until you're bare!"

Neither Gibbs nor Palmer could help themselves; they both cringed.

"Somehow," Palmer said gently, putting his arm around the nurse's shoulders, "I don't think that's going to be a problem. He'd be too afraid not to."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

McGee's phone rang and he answered it absently as he read _Operation: Dead Wrong_. It was from MTAC, letting him know there was an incoming call for them.

It was Lieutenant Kent, and he did not look happy.

" _What the hell is going on?_ " he demanded, looking as if he was calling from inside his tent or one of the other tents on the base he was stationed at. " _First, I get word that my grandfather is dead, then I find out NCIS is investigating._ "

"Sir, first of all, we're sorry for your loss," McGee said. "Second, unfortunately, the circumstances surrounding your grandfather's death warrant investigation."

" _What happened?_ " Lieutenant Kent demanded.

"He was murdered. From what our medical examiner said, someone broke his neck and tried to make it look like an accident, but his nurse said otherwise," McGee said.

" _Something like that, yeah, she would. She spent most of her time with him, really cared about him_ ," Lieutenant Kent said.

"We're aware of your relationship with Nurse Mackenzie. Your stepmother had a few interesting photos of the date you two went on the last time you were home," Torres said.

Lieutenant Kent smirked. " _She did, huh? No surprise there. Let me tell you something about April; she wanted Granddad's money and she wanted the house. Now that he's gone, she's going to try and grab whatever she can, even though she's got a restraining order against the house, which could be considered expired upon his death. She will also try and go after Mac because Mac kept her away from Granddad, which makes her an enemy for life. Slandering someone means nothing to her if it means she gets what she wants, when she wants it_."

"Understood," McGee said. "We know about the restraining order, and we can delay things with regards to the house for a bit, until you can come back, by claiming the house is a crime scene. As for Nurse Mackenzie, because of the nature of her relationship with Admiral Kent, she's under federal protection. Are you confirming the nature of your relationship?"

" _Very much so_ ," Lieutenant Kent said, grinning. He tapped a few keys on his computer and a photo popped up of him and Mac, looking very cozy. He brought up another one, of Mac in a short, sexy robe with kimono sleeves. The photo was a bit racy, but it was still fairly tame compared to some other photos both men had seen. " _First time I saw her, I thought I'd swallowed my tongue. Then I made the mistake of suggesting she was Granddad's maid and if she was, I was coming home more often. She let me know she was his nurse, and what was going to happen if I didn't smarten up and behave. Woman's had a piece of my heart ever since and I've not been in any hurry to get it back._ "

"Sir, do you know of any reason someone might want to hurt your grandfather?" Torres asked.

" _Not off hand, but he did mention he was writing a book, said something about making heads roll once it was published,_ " Lieutenant Kent said. " _Did you find it?"_

"We did and we're currently going through it as we speak," McGee said.

"Good. Do me a favour? Make me a copy; I want to know what the heck Granddad was so determined to tell the world," Lieutenant Kent said. "And if you see Mac before I do, tell her I'll be calling her pretty quick and she'd better answer or I'm going to worry."

"Yes sir," McGee said. "We'll see what we can do."

" _Good. I'll be home as fast as I can, even if I have to strap myself to the wing of the next outbound plane_ ," Lieutenant Kent said. He signed off, and Torres turned to McGee.

"Well, their first meeting stories are consistent," McGee said.

"Wanna bet Nurse Mackenzie's phone is going to be going crazy right about now?" Torres asked.

"That's a sucker bet. I want to get back to that book," McGee said, heading for the door.

"Good?"

"Guy could tell a tale, and I think my publisher owes me a favour," McGee said.

"Hot off the press?"

"Might be a way to draw our killer out."

"Let's talk to Gibbs," Torres said.

Back downstairs, Bishop was typing furiously on her computer, a copy of _Operation: Dead Wrong_ open beside her. "Hey guys, how'd it go?"

"Lieutenant Kent confirmed the relationship between him and Nurse Mackenzie, as well as the fact that April Kent wanted Admiral Kent's money and house," Torres said. "Said he'll be home as fast as he can, even if he has to, quote, strap himself to the wing of the next outbound plane."

"You find something?" McGee asked.

"Running names right now," Bishop said. "Meet Chief Petty Officer Charles 'Chucky' Baldwin, Petty Officer First Class Adam 'Apple' Jenson, Petty Officer Second Class Shane 'Willy' Williams, Lieutenant Thomas 'Tommy Boy' Kent, Lieutenant Commander Hal 'Detroit' Burns, Lieutenant Bryan 'Red' McEntire, Lieutenant Peter 'Knife' Zyder, and Ensign Aaron 'Oak' Ashmore," she continued, sending a bunch of file photos to the plasma screen. "They were all SEALs, and all on the same team during Operation: Dead Wrong." She threw up some more file photos. "These guys are Captain Mark 'Flyboy' Smith, Petty Officer First Class Bradley 'Wingit' Mark, and Lieutenant Commander Conner 'Rockabilly' O'Hara. They were Navy pilots who were attached to the SEAL team the night of the operation."

"The synopsis said five men died that night," Torres said.

"Five men did die," Bishop said. "Jenson, Williams, Burns, and Mark died as a result of injuries sustained during the operation and later, Ashmore, who died when his service pistol 'accidently' fired during cleaning, less than a week later."

"Suicide," McGee guessed.

"Anyone still alive?" Torres asked.

"McEntire, but at his age, it's doubtful as to whether or not he can help us," Bishop said. "I'm trying to locate him now."

"What about the spy?" McGee asked.

"Andrei Nasonov, suspected Russian spy, during the time of the Soviet Union," Bishop said. "Don't know what happened to him yet, as I'm just trying to identify the players. Oh, and Kent mentioned a CIA contact by the name of Darien Jones, but wasn't sure if that was the guy's real name or not."

"Probably wasn't. Remember Kort? Guy was former CIA and had at least a dozen different aliases," McGee reminded her.

"Kort?" Torres asked.

"Pain in the ass CIA agent who killed a fellow agent and friend of ours," Gibbs said, joining them.

"He's dead," McGee said to Torres.

"That bad, huh?" Torres asked. McGee and Bishop nodded. "That bad."

"Who was in charge of the operation?" Gibbs asked.

"According to Kent, he wasn't sure. He thinks it might have been a guy by the name of Admiral Marvin Harris, but he's not sure because a lot of the mission was need-to-know, and he wasn't high enough up the ladder at the time to know," Bishop said. "I'm still reading."

"Find out exactly what happened to these guys," Gibbs said, going to his desk, "and what happened to the rest of the team."

"On it," Torres said, McGee following suit. "Oh, and McGee had an idea."

"Yeah, I was wondering what would happen if the book was actually published," McGee said. "Someone killed Admiral Kent to prevent the book from coming out, but what if I pulled a favour with my publisher and actually got the book printed?"

"Might draw the killer out," Torres said. "And see who freaks out the most over this."

"What about the risk to Nurse Mackenzie?" Bishop asked.

"If the killer is smart, he won't go after her because it would look suspicious," McGee said. "However, if we 'let' it slip that the Admiral's book is still being published, the killer might try and raid her place to find the manuscript, or even go after the publisher and try and do something to stop the book from being published."

"And we could set up a trap to catch him," Torres said.

"Can your publisher be trusted?" Gibbs asked.

"You mean after that little fiasco the last time?" McGee asked, referring to the time when his publisher had tried to make it look like there was a stalker after him, even setting a crazed fan after Abby because she resembled a character in his book, one that had hurt his main character, Agent Tibbs. "Trust me, I had a word with the publishing company, and now have a different publisher. She can be trusted, and I think she would love an opportunity like this."

"Did you find out where the second manuscript went to?" Gibbs asked.

"It was supposed to go to another publishing company, but it never got there, because the bike courier took a nasty hit-and-run while he was delivering it, and while he was laying on the ground, someone from the car grabbed his bag, which happened to have the manuscript," Bishop said. "The copy we have is the only copy left."

Gibbs thought for a moment, then made a decision. "McGee, call your publisher. Pull whatever favor you have to, but get that book 'published' and make it look like a big deal."

"Calling," McGee said. A few minutes later, he hung up. "She'll be down here within the half hour and has promised to do what it takes. Oh, and she needs a really nice picture of Admiral Kent, and anything else we think might help."

"Do it," Gibbs said.

"Doing," McGee said.

"Maybe Nurse Mackenzie or Lieutenant Kent should help with the foreword," Bishop said.

"Get Mac to do it, and explain what we're up to," Gibbs said.

"Is she with Sloane?" McGee asked.

"She is. Something about getting something to eat," Gibbs said.

"I'll call her," McGee said, picking up his phone.

"Might help if Director Vance was in on it," Torres said. "Make it a little more legit, especially with some of the higher-ups, because this kind of thing would have needed some help from upstairs, and someone might know something."

Gibbs nodded. "Keep reading. I'll talk to Vance."

Upstairs, after listening to what Gibbs had to say, Vance nodded. "I want a copy. I have a meeting with several members of various defense departments over the next day or so and I can always 'accidentally' leave the book out. See what kind of reaction I get."

"That would help."

"How's the nurse holding?"

"She's gutsy. She's already sitting down with Jack to write the foreword. You ever meet Admiral Kent?"

"Unfortunately, no. But I do recognize him and Nurse Mackenzie," Vance said. At Gibbs' look of interest, he explained. "Several months ago, there was a reunion of sorts with a bunch of white suits and it was in the Stars and Stripes." Vance did some typing on his computer and pulled up a photograph that Gibbs recognized. "She was there, and the paper identified her only as Admiral Kent's companion."

Gibbs studied the date of the newspaper article. "That coincides with when Admiral Kent started writing his book," he said.

"Could be a coincidence," Vance said. He saw the look Gibbs gave him. "Right; no such thing as a coincidence in a murder investigation."

"Mac knows something, She just might not realize she knows something."

Vance nodded. "Get me a copy of that book, and I'll see who I can scare. And keep digging."

"Ain't no other way," Gibbs said, leaving the office.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mac was at a desk in the bullpen, working on the foreword for _Operation: Dead Wrong_ , when her phone rang. It was Bunny, and she sounded amused. Mac put her phone on speaker.

"Hey Bunny, what's up?"

" _April Kent called. Did you know that woman has a mouth worthy of Satan himself?_ " Bunny asked.

"Been on the wrong end of it before, so yeah, I'm familiar with her colorful language," Mac said. "What did she want?"

" _To have you fired for keeping her away from Admiral Kent_ ," Bunny said.

"Of course. NCIS checked; the restraining order against her is still valid in regards to me, and they've sealed the house to prevent her from being able to access it. Think Gibbs said he would have the locks changed or something."

" _Good. Anyhow, I reminded her about the restraining order, and she proceeded to rip fart like crazy. Thought she was gonna burst my eardrums._ "

"Oh how nice. All recorded?"

" _Naturally. Oh, and both our lawyer and the police will be getting a copy. Think NCIS would like one? She did threaten to rip you a new one_."

"Hey Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Bunny wants to know if you guys want a copy of the recording of the phone call between April and Bunny. Seems April threatened physical harm to me."

"Send it."

"Will do, but someone might want to figure out how to decontaminate your computer afterwards. Seems April has a bit of a dirty mouth."

"McGee?"

"See what I can do, boss."

"Send it to Gibbs, Bun. Thanks."

" _No problems, hun. Just watch your step. That woman's mad and I have a nasty suspicion she's gonna get madder._ "

"Consider that confirmed; Admiral Kent's lawyer says she gets diddly squat, both in his will and his life insurance. Everything goes to Tom, even planning his funeral."

Bunny laughed. " _Load up on those earplugs, and let me know which funeral home so we can send some nice flowers._ "

"Will do. Any problems with Brenda?"

" _Old Ironbritches wasn't too happy, but I wouldn't worry about her, or the Big Bosses_."

"Do you think April might try and dig up that business with Dr. Agarwal?"

" _She can try, hun, but it won't do much good. Even Kev knows things like that happen, and you did what you had to do. I wouldn't worry. You just take care of yourself, and keep me posted._ "

"Understood. Oh, want to play dirty? There's a risk, though."

" _Always is when you play dirty. What's up?_ "

"NCIS is getting Admiral Kent's book supposedly published. They're hoping to draw out the killer. Would you mind if they put a copy in Reception? Just to see who bites?"

" _Give_."

"Gibbs?"

"As soon as it's ready."

" _In that case, let me know, and I already have just the spot for it. That reminds me, we really should have our security company check our alarm system over, just to make sure it's up to date and all that. Go through our access system, make sure there's no one there who should be there, like that little imp we had to fire last month_."

"Lydia? Yeah, I remember her. Wonder if she's still banging Captain Edward."

Bunny groaned. " _Don't do that to me; you're putting mental images in my head, and I was seriously thinking of having a date night with hubby._ "

Mac laughed. "Sorry, Bun. Would it help if I offered to send you a chocolate-dipped strawberry box from Edible Arrangements?"

Bunny laughed. " _Now that puts much better images in my head. I should say no, but I won't. Anyhow, my phone is going crazy, but please, please, hun, be careful._ "

"Always. And watch your back."

" _As closely as a diabetic having dessert._ "

Mac ended the call, and looked up to see Gibbs, Torres, Bishop, and McGee all staring at her. "What?"

"Rip fart?" Torres asked, eyes wide.

"That's Bunny's colorful way of saying someone was cussing. Stinks, usually very loud, and usually from someone who should know better. Had one guy show up at the office, dropping the F bomb every third word. Bunny threatened to shove a can of Glade up his ass if he didn't clean up his language," Mac explained, giggling.

"Dr. Agarwal?" Gibbs asked.

"A surgeon who screwed up; damn near cost a patient his life. I called him on it, the hospital backed him when he tried to have me fired, and I threatened to sue for wrongful termination, as well as giving the patient enough information to have Dr. Agarwal and the hospital sued for medical malpractice," Mac explained. "The settlement was my keeping my mouth shut, getting a good reference, and them not letting Dr. Agarwal do that kind of procedure on patients again, not without supervision anyway." She sighed heavily. "I didn't enjoy what I had to do, but I was protecting my patients."

"That's understandable," Bishop said.

"If it helps any, Dr. Agarwal was sent back home about a month ago. Any agreement you have should now be considered null and void," McGee said, having done some fast typing.

"What about Lydia?" Torres asked.

"How much porn do you watch?" Mac asked. She saw the blush on Torres face. "Ever heard of the one called _Beauty and the Senior_?" Gibbs stared at her, Bishop's face went red, and both McGee and Torres suddenly buried themselves on their computer. "Yeah. That. Except the last guy she did that with, his Viagra didn't agree with his nitroglycerin medication. Wound up in hospital, and his wife, understandably, complained. I'd say that was a way to go, except St. Michaels damn near got sued. Lydia was fired, and last I heard, she had managed to find a job working at some youth center, where the only seniors she gets to bounce are the ones she meets on a dating app." She looked at the team. "Anything else?"

"Yeah; did you finish that foreword?" McGee asked. "Michelle is ready to send the book to the printers once she has that."

"Come and get it," Mac said. McGee came over, and glanced over the Word document. "Nice. And that's a nice picture. Boss?" Gibbs came over and quickly read through the foreword.

"Send it," he said.

"Sending," McGee said, reaching around Mac and typing fast. "And sent," he said, a moment later.

"What happened at that event?" Gibbs asked Mac.

"Event?"

"The white suit event you went to with Admiral Kent."

Mac smiled. "Oh, that. The blue dress and corsage one?" Gibbs nodded as he pulled up a chair to the desk. "Yeah, I remember that one. There was this reunion Admiral Kent really wanted to go to, some fancy thing with a bunch of his SEAL buddies, but because of his mobility concerns, he couldn't go without an escort. So I agreed to go, even though Brenda warned me I wouldn't get paid for it. I basically told her to go stuff herself, that this was voluntary, and that if I went, I could keep an eye on him as a nurse, which means St. Michaels wouldn't be facing liability suits if something went wrong."

"That makes sense," Gibbs said.

"The old bugger was so happy, he even went and ordered a limo to pick us up at the house, and gave me a really nice corsage, which I still have."

"Wow."

"Yeah. He made it very plain I wasn't his nurse that night; I was his maiden, direct quote. No one at the reunion dared to contradict him, or even do anything stupid around me, even though I had a few Navy officers trying to flirt with me. That was fun."

"Would be. Do you remember if anything unusual happened during that? Maybe he had an argument with someone, or said something or?"

Mac sat back for a moment, and Gibbs could see it in her eyes as she searched through her memories of that night. "Yeah, yeah, come to think of it, something strange did happen. Near the end of the night, I got roped into a dance with a sailor, some guy who introduced himself as a Chief Petty Officer. Nice enough fellow. Anyway, I glanced over, and I saw Admiral Kent having what looked like a very heated argument with this guy in a suit, a dark grey one, I think. Didn't recognize him. Neither did the chief, when I asked him. So I walked up to them, asking Admiral Kent if everything was okay, and the guy smiled at me, but it was the kind of real creepy smile that made me shiver, like someone had poured cold slime down my back."

"Eww," Bishop said, shivering.

"Okay. Did either of them say anything to you?" Gibbs asked.

"That's the thing; Admiral Kent assured me everything was okay, and the guy said everything would be okay as long as certain things were left alone. Admiral Kent got this stubborn look in his eyes, and the guy wandered off. Don't think I saw him again for the rest of the night, and Admiral Kent basically acted as if nothing had happened."

"Okay."

"The thing is, about two days later, when I came to take care of Admiral Kent, he asked me a funny question. He asked me what I thought of missions that were covered up."

"That is a funny question. How did you reply?"

"Well, I got the feeling there was more to his question than just that, so I answered honestly. I said it would boil down to why the mission was covered up, was anyone hurt during the mission, and what exactly was the mission. If something bad had happened during the mission, and someone was hurt or killed, and someone knew something, then that someone owed the dead the truth."

"That's fair."

Mac nodded. "He asked me even if it meant that the truth could do a lot of damage. I asked him to define damage. He didn't say anything about it again, but shortly afterwards, he asked me what I would think if he wrote a book. I said let me know when you want to start, and I'll get you a laptop, and when the book is published, I'll expect a signed copy. That was when he started writing the book."

"If we show you pictures from that event, do you think you could identify the guy he was arguing with?"

"Very, very easily."

" _Stars and Stripes_ was there," Gibbs said to Torres.

"I'll hollah and see what they got," Torres said, fingers flying across his keyboard.

"May I use the computer to send Bunny and her hubby some chocolate-covered strawberries?" Mac asked.

Gibbs nodded and showed her how to access the internet on the computer. "Edible Arrangements?" he asked, seeing the website.

"Good stuff," Mac said. "Better than flowers, and tastier too."

"Hear hear!" Bishop said, raising a hand. "Especially the chocolate-dipped pineapple." She grinned as she remembered. "I sent myself some after my divorce from Jake, when I was in a self-pity mood. That was a hundred and sixty bucks well spent, especially when I added caramel sauce."

"A hundred and sixty bucks?" Gibbs demanded, then his eyes went wide when he saw some of the arrangements.

"Don't knock it 'till you try it," Mac said. "As a nurse, I preferred it when patients families sent these over flowers, because there were certain flowers that weren't allowed in the units, whereas these were always allowed, and sometimes the patients would share with the nurses. Good stuff, good times."

Torres grinned as he typed, with the phone to his ear. Bishop was going to be getting an anonymous arrangement in the near future….


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

According to Michelle, it was going to take at least twenty-four hours of frantic work to get _Operation: Dead Wrong_ to the printers, partially because the book itself wasn't in digital format. However, she promised that as soon as it hit the printers and was ready to go, she would let them know.

 _Stars and Stripes_ was happy to help, and the photographer that night sent over a copy of all the photographs he had taken that night. Mac spent the remainder of the day going through the photos, only taking a break when her eyes started hurting.

"Found him," she said, later. "Sort of. Guy isn't really camera happy, so he's not in any of the pictures good and proper, but that's him in the background, behind this fellow." Gibbs studied the male she was pointing to in the picture. It wasn't a very good angle, but it was better than nothing.

"He in any of the others?" Gibbs asked.

"Still looking, but this the first good one I've seen of him, so far."

"McGee."

McGee came over and quickly grabbed the photo. "I'll send it to Kasie and we'll start running it through facial rec," he said, typing. "The more angles we can get of him, the better."

"Then I'll keep looking, but this guy took a heck of a lot of photos that night," Mac said. Her stomach growled, and she groaned, rubbing her stomach.

"When was the last time you ate?" Gibbs asked.

"Breakfast, I think," Mac admitted. "Plus some coffee a little while ago."

"Torres," Gibbs said.

"You like Chinese?" Torres asked Mac.

She pulled a face. "I had to live on that stuff when I was making my way through nursing school, because I was on such a tight budget. What about Mama Greta's? They make a fantastic spaghetti and meatballs, and they do take-out, plus their menu prices don't break the bank, and it's got a website you can order from."

"And yummy," Bishop said, a moment later, looking over Torres shoulder. "Pansotti Alla Genovese with meat sauce or three cheese."

"That's a really big ravioli, and Mama Greta's doesn't skimp on her ravioli or the sauces," Mac said. "Oh, and breadsticks are included, and you have a choice of plain, garlic, or cheese. I love the cheese ones."

"What about the meatballs?" Torres asked.

"Try meat cannons," Mac said. "I only ever order three of those things because they are huge, but they are so good, especially the cheese ones."

"One order of spaghetti and meatballs coming up, with three cheese meatballs," Torres said.

"Make that two," Gibbs said, glancing over Torres shoulder.

"Done and done," Torres said. In the end, Bishop asked for the ravioli with meat sauce, McGee ordered the chicken linguini, and Torres decided to try their seafood fettuccine alfredo.

Once their orders came, they gathered around McGee's desk, and were joined by Sloane, who was quite happy to snitch some of each from everyone.

"So what happened with Operation: Dead Wrong?" Mac asked, twirling her fork into her spaghetti.

"Based on what I was reading, it should have never happened," Bishop said. "The CIA guy, Darien Jones? His information was wrong, very wrong. According to Admiral Kent, who was a lieutenant at the time, Andrei Nasonov was supposed to be hiding out at a compound just outside of Jerusalem. He wasn't, and the simple compound turned out to be very heavily fortified with Arabs who had every reason to want that compound kept secure; it was being used to store and secure weapons that would later be part of the Six-Day War in 1967, which the Navy wasn't involved in, but the US had interests in."

"That's a good reason," Torres said.

"When the SEAL team surveyed the compound about twenty-four hours before the actual mission, they found it a lot more heavily fortified than Jones had originally said, and Chief Petty Officer Baldwin tried to call the operation off until they had more information. Admiral Harris refused, threatened court martial of the whole team if they didn't follow their orders," McGee said.

"Bastard," Mac said.

"Well, for some reason, Harris really wanted Nasonov, and was mad as hell when he found out Nasonov was not only not at the compound, there was no indication he'd ever even been there," Sloane said, having read the book herself.

"Could Jones have egged him on?" Mac asked.

"Admiral Kent thought so, and he shared his thoughts and his concerns with Chief Petty Officer Baldwin, who agreed, but told him to keep his mouth shut and follow orders," Bishop said. "Admiral Kent wondered if he was being threatened, especially when he saw him and Jones having a very heated conversation just before the mission."

"To quote Admiral Kent, the whole mission was a regular Charlie Foxtrot," McGee said.

"Charlie Foxtrot?" Mac asked, confused.

"Radio talk for clusterfuck. It's in line with shitstorm, FUBAR, and SNAFU," Sloane explained.

"Now those two I'm familiar with," Mac said. "Heard those a few times from some of the Navy doctors I worked with at Bethesda, plus a few other ones. Anyway, so you're saying the intel from Jones was bad, that this spy was never at the compound, and when Chief Baldwin tried to back out, he got told to do it anyway or else?"

"Pretty much," Bishop said.

"So what happened? Were they ambushed? Outnumbered?" Mac asked.

"They didn't even get a hundred yards within the corner compound wall before someone started shooting at them, which lead Admiral Kent to think someone had told on them," McGee said. "Petty Officer Jenson took the first hit right through the throat, sniper fire."

"Dead on impact," Mac said, having seen those kind of injuries before.

"Exactly. Petty Officer Williams was killed when he couldn't get out of the way of a rocket, due to being pinned down," McGee continued. "Kent was never sure if they managed to find all of his remains that night."

"Jeeze," Mac moaned. "And Burns and Mark? Weren't they killed as well?"

"They were. Burns sustained serious injuries during their extraction, when Baldwin finally convinced Harris to send the helo and get them out of there. He died two days later. Petty Officer Mark was the helo gunner, and Kent describes him as taking several rounds to the chest before Kent could take over and fire back," McGee said. "He died enroute back to the base."

"Five days later, Kent went to check on Ashmore, after having been told they were to never speak of that mission again, and found him dead of a bullet wound to his temple," Bishop said. "To this day, Kent was never quite sure if Ashmore actually killed himself, or if Jones had a hand in it."

"Why?" Mac asked.

"Because when Kent went to collect Ashmore's stuff to be sent back home, he found a journal he knew Ashmore had a habit of writing in, burned beyond recognition, in the tent camp stove," Bishop said.

"That would do it," Mac said.

"Also, according to the coroner's report that Kent got his hands on, Ashmore had a very unusual welt on the back of his head that wasn't consistent with him falling backwards. There were no rocks under Ashmore's head when he was found, and the blood spatter on the ground was off," McGee said.

"Okay, I don't know a lot about CIA agents and all that spy shit, but I'm guessing, based on my James Bond reading, they weren't afraid of doing things like covering things up," Mac said.

"And you'd be right," Sloane said. "Back then it would have been real easy to make a murder look like a suicide, especially if they wanted to cover things up."

"What happened to Admiral… Harris, was it?" Mac asked.

"Heart attack, about six years after the mission," Torres said. He pulled a notepad towards him and read his notes. "Baldwin, cancer, eight years ago. He retired with full honors but never took part in another SEAL mission like that again. Captain Smith and Lieutenant Commander O'Hara, vehicle accident and cirrhosis of the liver, both brought on by alcohol. Lieutenant McEntire is still alive, but he's in a senior home with advanced dementia."

"Oof," Mac said. Her brow furrowed. "Once _Operation: Dead Wrong_ is released, do you think McEntire might be at risk? I know he's supposedly got dementia, but I've seen some patients with dementia have moments of clarity when they see or hear something that's familiar or important to them. Doesn't always happen, but that might be enough to convince the killer that McEntire is a threat."

"She's got a point, boss," McGee said.

"We'll visit him first thing," Gibbs said. "See what he knows and how he reacts."

"Okay, and, umm, I hate to say this, but I'm not getting paid for being with you guys, so I need to get back to work," Mac said.

Gibbs got a grin on his face. "How do you feel about having a nursing student with you?"

Mac smiled. "Who wants to go first? I have a few patients I can think of who would give you a guys a run for your money."

"Torres, you're up first," Gibbs said.

Torres grunted. "How hard can that be?"

The next day:

"I am so, so, very so, sorry," Torres moaned as he limped to his desk to fill out his report. "I swear, on my life, and every skin care product I own, that I will never, ever flirt or get mouthy with a nurse again."

McGee grinned. "What did she do to you?"

"Five patients. The first one, not so bad. Nice old guy who needed a little help with his meds and a general check-up. Second patient, an old lady."

"Uh-oh," Bishop said, grinning.

"I forgot to mention to him that Margaret likes younger guys, and is not shy about smacking someone's ass," Mac said, joining Gibbs at his desk, and handing him a copy of her patient report.

"I think she left a bruise," Torres moaned, wincing as he sat down. "I'd charge her with assault, but what cop would believe me?"

"And then there was the patient who needed his catheter replaced," Mac said, grinning even wider.

"I thought that was bad until we had to deal with Mr. Egon," Torres said, shivering. "Gangrene? Smells worse than it looks."

"Poor guy has diabetes, and it's gone after his feet," Mac explained. "His health insurance sucks, thanks to a certain jackass, and he can't afford the necessary surgery to get it treated. So all we can do is keep the wound clean and give him antibiotics where we can."

"Isn't he supposed to be a veteran?" Torres asked.

"His wife was, which is how he managed to qualify for St. Michaels, but there's only so much we can do, because we're not fully equipped to do what needs to be done, which is put him in hospital," Mac explained.

"From there we went to Mr. Cartwright, who needed a bath," Torres said.

"Not something we do alone," Mac explained. "He may be old, but he's still about two hundred pounds, and if I drop him, I could seriously hurt him."

"And Ms. King. Very nice lady. Fantastic aim," Torres said.

"She likes to spit when she eats," Mac explained. "Torres looked real cute with mashed peas and potatoes all over his face."

McGee groaned in disgust, and Bishop laughed at the look on Torres face.

"And last but not least, the very lovely Mrs. Phillips," Torres said.

"She likes to bite and kick, and she managed to catch Nick in the no-no," Mac said, grinning even wider. "Dropped like a rock."

"How did you avoid getting bit by her?" Torres demanded, while McGee and Bishop laughed, and Gibbs just shook his head, wincing in sympathy.

"I've been doing this for over ten years," Mac shot back. "I've been bitten, kicked, scratched, grabbed at, screamed at, called every name you can think of, from both patients and their families, gotten covered in every manner of bodily fluid you can think of, from the young to the old. I've had food thrown at me, adult diapers, a beer bottle once, from a drunk. I got thrown across a room once, when I was doing a stint in the ER, because the Marine they brought in, he would have made the Rock proud, and he was reacting badly to some medication he'd been given to deal with the burn from some explosion from an engine he'd been working on, and apparently, normally, this guy was a regular teddy bear. Hard cold reality is, guys, nursing can get messy and dangerous, because we're dealing with human beings. I've lost track of the number of scrubs I've tossed out because they were too badly stained to even consider wearing again."

"Well, I promise you, from here on out, I will never, ever give any nurse I see any trouble or grief again," Torres said, holding up one hand.

"Bishop, you're up next," Gibbs said.

"Oh, and Tom will be landing at Quantico tomorrow night," Mac said.

"We'll pick him up," Gibbs said.

"Not without me, you don't," Mac said.

The next day, Bishop made her way to her desk, limping. Torres grinned at her.

"What'd you do?" he asked, liking how she looked in her cute purple scrubs.

"Twisted my back. Mrs. Heysworth was a lot heavier than she looked, and she needed a bath," Bishop moaned as she took off her jacket. She scowled when Mac waived a tube of Voltaren Extra Strength Emulgel at her, having taken it out of her work backpack. "That stuff stinks."

"This stuff works," Mac shot back. "You have a choice; clear your sinuses and not hurt quite so much, or suffer. It's either this, or the Tiger Balm, and trust me, that stuff really clears the sinuses."

Bishop stared at her, then nodded reluctantly. She turned around and lifted her shirt, and let Mac apply the gel, trying not to yelp in shock at the coldness of the gel. Then she moaned softly as Mac worked the gel into her muscles.

"When you get home tonight, wipe that stuff off with a cold wet cloth and soak in the tub with some epsom salts," Mac advised. "That will help."

Gibbs desk phone rang. After talking to someone, he hung up. "April Kent's on her way up, and Security says she's as mad."

"Should I get out of the way?" Mac asked. "Restraining order and all that?"

"Why?" Sloane asked, joining them. "You haven't done anything wrong, and besides, this could get interesting."

"You want to see what she'll do," Mac guessed.

"Please," Sloane said.

Before anyone else could say a word, the elevator opened, and a blonde woman in a too-tight top and leather pants charged out, her white faux fur coat flying behind her.

"Agent Torres, I want to talk to you, now!" April screeched, jabbing a finger at him.

"I'm right here," Torres said, standing up. He smiled. "So is my boss, Special Agent Gibbs. Boss, meet April Kent."

Gibbs came around his desk, watching as April stormed over to Torres. "I want that whore of a nurse charged!" she yelled.

"With what?" Torres asked, privately wondering if he was going to have to get his hearing checked afterwards.

"That _bitch_ convinced Thomas to cut me out of his will and his life insurance! Thanks to her, I get _nothing,_ and I deserve everything!" April screamed. "I want her charged and thrown in jail!"

"For what?" Gibbs asked. "According to the lawyer we spoke to, Admiral Kent made his will a month after Megan, his wife, died. Mac was nowhere near him at the time. Same with his life insurance policy"

"I don't care and I don't believe you! That money was mine! I earned it for putting up with his stupid son and taking care of his stupid brat!" April yelled.

"Ma'am, there is nothing we can charge Nurse Mackenzie with, because she didn't do anything wrong," Torres said. "The best you can do is try and challenge Lieutenant Kent, who is the sole heir to everything, in court, but good luck with that, because if you loose, any legal fees will come out of your pocket, and that's not going to be cheap, unlike your make-up."

April's face went red. Then she saw Mac, and she exploded. Before anyone could stop her, Mac's head was snapped around by a vicious backhand slap from April's hand, splitting skin on Mac's face from her cocktail rings. Before she could strike again, she was being grabbed by both McGee and Torres, with Sloane and Bishop shielding Mac.

" _You bitch! You whore! I'll kill you! I'll ruin you! I'll ruin your name! I'll sue you to the ground! You stole what was mine and I want it back, now!_ " April screamed, fighting against Torres and McGee.

McGee grunted. "Hey boss, could use a little help here," he said, narrowly missing a kick from the struggling woman.

Another agent, a friend of theirs by the name of Colton, stepped in with Bishop and quickly got the struggling woman under control.

Gibbs got in her face. "Now, you listen to me, and you listen good," he snarled. "Nurse Mackenzie is under federal protection, and you are still under a restraining order to keep away from her. As of right now, if there are charges to be laid, they can be laid against you for assaulting her and violating your restraining order, as well as assaulting federal agents." April drew back her head as if to spit at him and he held up a warning finger. "You do what I think you're going to do, and I will charge you."

"It's not worth it, April," Mac said gently. "Don't. Just don't. Tom got everything, and I had no say in that, but I do have a say in whether or not you get charged with assault. If you want to contest everything, Tom can't stop you, but I can guarantee you will lose. Do yourself a favour and cut the Kent family loose. There's plenty of other fish in the sea."

"Director Vance?" Gibbs asked, the director having come out of his office at the commotion. Another agent had quickly updated him on the situation, and now he stared at April coldly, her bosom heaving from her struggles.

"Who the hell are you, nigger?" she snarled.

"I am Director Vance of NCIS, ma'am," Vance said coldly. "And you are banned from this building. If Nurse Mackenzie so chooses to charge you, we will assist her with that, and I guarantee you, you will spend time in jail."

"Just get out of here, April, and stay away from me," Mac said tiredly, accepting the ice pack someone kindly handed her.

"I'll sue the lot of you," April snarled. "You can't stop me from getting into the house."

"Yes we can," Vance said. "It's considered a crime scene, and if you go near it, we will arrest you for trespassing and tampering with evidence."

April cursed at him.

"Get her out of here," Gibbs said. "And April? Expect a restraining order from NCIS. You don't get to come near here again."

"Because, if you do, I will be very happy to put you on the floor," Sloane said. "Mac might be nice, but I'm not, and neither are any of the rest of us."

As April was escorted out of the building, Gibbs glanced at Vance. "I'll get someone from the legal department working on it," Vance said.

"I'll get started, sir," said a young woman with curly brown hair barely contained in a ponytail. "There's enough witnesses that I think I can convince a judge that she's a threat."

"Thanks, Emma," Gibbs said, friendly with the young paralegal who had assisted him on several occasions, and was known for standing up to him. "You okay?" he asked Mac, checking out her face carefully, which had a nasty red mark on one side.

"I'll live. Should have seen the bruise I got around my neck when a druggie tried to strangle me in the ER one time," Mac said, shrugging. "When the paramedics brought him in, he was fine. When he found out he wasn't getting the meds he wanted, he exploded."

"Was he charged?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, not that it did any good," Mac said. "He tried the same thing two weeks later with a different nurse, only to get body-slammed to the floor by two Marines. Security had to ban him from the hospital." She grinned as she remembered. "Last I heard, one of those Marines wound up marrying the nurse. Heck of an introduction."

Gibbs chuckled.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Gibbs went over to his desk and pulled out a book from a box that was beside his desk. " _Operation: Dead Wrong_ is done," he said, handing the book to Mac.

"They did a nice job on it," she said, looking at the cover, which showed a gold Navy SEAL trident symbol being stabbed by a K-Bar knife and bleeding, against a white background. On the back was a photograph of Admiral Kent, before he retired.

"Did you ever read the dedication?" Gibbs asked.

Mac shook her head. "I didn't see one," she said.

"It was the last page of the book," Gibbs said. He put his reading glasses on, opened the book, and began reading.

"In memory of Willy, Apple, Detroit, Oak, and Wingit. May you finally be at peace. I am so sorry it took so long to tell your story, consequences be damned.

Megan and Jonathan, I miss you two so much. Meg, you were the light of my life. Jonathan, I was so proud of you, even when your choices left something to be desired. I'll see you both soon.

Tom, my grandson; I am so proud of you, not for the sailor that you are, but the man you have become. She's a good one. Be smart, and make her yours.

And finally, this book could not have been made possible without the encouragement, support, and kindness of the most wonderful nurse I have ever been blessed to know. Mac, I love you like the daughter I never had. Thank you for giving me the courage to write this book. May you find love and happiness in all of your days. He's not perfect, but he's a fine man and he'll make you happy. Take care of each other, as you once took care of a grumpy old man with too many ghosts."

Gibbs looked up at Mac, in time to see her eyes filling with tears. Wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, she said, "I know those books are probably going to have to go into evidence once this is over, but do you could make a copy of one 'disappear', maybe?"

Gibbs smirked. "Bet on it."

As Lieutenant Kent's plane wasn't due to arrive for a few more hours, Gibbs used the time to make sure the books were given to the right people. When he left Vance's office, the director was already opening the book and starting to read.

St. Michaels got a copy, and Sasha put it on an acrylic easel display with a sign saying that the book was available for order and all proceeds from the sale of the book would be going to a local veterans help center in Admiral Kent's name. The DoD reception area got a copy, with the secretary promising to keep an eye out for anyone who reacted funny to the book. As for the senior retirement residence where McEntire was, they got several copies as well, including McEntire's daughter, who had expressed interest in the book when told about it.

The visit to McEntire proved to be less than helpful, as the elderly man was diagnosed with what his daughter, Barb, said was Stage Seven Dementia, or Very Severe Cognitive Decline, otherwise known as Late Dementia.

"He's at the stage where he's basically a baby," Barb said to Gibbs and McGee. "No bowel or bladder control, no ability to communicate, he can't even feed himself or walk without help."

"So his chances of recognizing someone are pretty much non existent?" McGee asked.

"Pretty much. Why is NCIS interested in my father?" Barb asked.

"We're investigating the death of one of his former SEAL teammates," Gibbs explained. He showed the woman a photograph of Admiral Kent and asked, "Do you recognize him?"

Barb shook her head. "No. I knew Dad was a SEAL, and he retired with honors, but I got the impression there were a few things he didn't like to talk about. Do you know when Admiral Kent was with him?"

"About 1965. They were on a mission together, in Palestine, and something went wrong," McGee said.

Barb shook her head. "I don't remember Dad ever really talking about anything in 1965. Like I said, I got the feeling there was a lot he didn't like to talk about."

"Would you mind if we showed your father a picture of Admiral Kent, see if something triggers?" Gibbs asked.

Barb nodded. "But if he starts getting agitated or anything, I want you to stop."

"We will, ma'am. We're not interested in hurting or upsetting him," McGee promised, watching as Gibbs carefully approached the frail old man, who was staring at nothing, a blanket across his knees, as he sat in his wheelchair. "We just need to know if he knows anything."

"Mr. McEntire, my name is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs said gently, kneeling beside the chair. "Do you recognize this man?" he asked, holding up the photo of Admiral Kent so McEntire could see it.

McEntire stared at the photo and a moment later, a soft moan came from his throat. His hand came up and he tried to bat at the photo, his brow furrowing.

"I think he does," Barb said, watching as her father started rocking and mumbling lounder. "And I don't think he's too happy."

"His name is Thomas Kent," Gibbs said. "You knew him as Tommy Boy in Palestine."

McEntire suddenly gave a strangled yell and started waving his arms, narrowly missing Gibbs.

"Okay, that's enough," Barb said firmly, catching her father's hands and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, trying to comfort him. "No more. Whatever happened then, Dad doesn't want to remember, and it's best left alone." A nurse joined them, glaring at the two agents.

"I agree," Gibbs said, putting the photograph away, not wanting to upset the frail old man any further. "Thank you for your time."

"If your dad has any old stuff from his Navy days, photographs or anything from around 1965, would you let us know?" McGee asked. "There's a guy we're trying to find who may have had a hand in the mission that we're investigating."

Barb nodded, still comforting her father, who was starting to settle down, but was still clearly upset about something. "I'll check around, see what I can find."

Gibbs gave her his card in Reception. "If anything comes up, or someone you don't recognize comes in, asking about your father or Admiral Kent, call me immediately, and an agent will come running," he said. "Your father served his country; the least we can do is keep him safe."

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs. Do you know what happened in 1965? What was so bad that Dad won't talk about it?"

"Your father and Admiral Kent were part of a mission in Palestine that went badly wrong," McGee said. "Several good men died as a result, and we think someone is trying to prevent the story of that mission from ever surfacing. Admiral Kent wrote a book about the mission, and his time as a SEAL, which included several missions with your father, and we suspect someone wasn't too happy about that."

Barb nodded. "I'll see what I can find. Dad was a bit of a hoarder, and I haven't had a chance to go through his stuff. I will do so as soon as I can, and if I do find something, I will let you know."

"Thank you," Gibbs said.

"Could I get a copy of that book? I'd like to read it, just out of curiosity," Barb said.

"We'll make sure you do. When it's ready, we'll drop it off here for you," Gibbs said.

"Thank you," Barb said. "And I'll check my father's stuff as soon as I get home. I have to admit, I'm curious."

"But be careful," Gibbs said. "LIke we said, someone wasn't too happy about the book being written, and if you think something's wrong or you think you're being followed, you call us and let us know."

"Understood," Barb said, a determined gleam coming into her eyes.

"Gutsy woman," McGee said, as he and Gibbs drove back to NCIS.

"Let's just hope she doesn't get hurt," Gibbs said.

Now, Gibbs watched as a familiar man in a Marine combat utility uniform, carrying a large rucksack over one shoulder, and a cargo bag in the other hand, disembarked from a cargo plane at Quantico. His face lit up when he saw Gibbs and Mac, and he picked up his pace across the tarmac.

Then Mac was being lifted off her feet and hugged tightly, a hug Gibbs suspected Lieutenant Kent was getting just as tightly, before kissing her with what Gibbs was sure was within an inch of her life.

"Thank God you're safe," Lieutenant Kent said, setting his girlfriend back down on her feet but proceeding to place light kisses all over her face, to which she giggled softly. "You're not hurt or anything?"

"No, I'm fine, I swear. Agent Gibbs and his team have been keeping me safe," Mac said, smiling.

"Yeah? Then explain this mark," Kent said, tapping the side of her face, where there was still a bit of a mark from April's earlier assault.

"I walked into a door," Mac said.

Kent smiled down at her. "Nice try on the lying, sweetheart. I recognize that mark. Got it a few times myself from April's damn rings."

Mac ducked her head. "Fine. You're right, April does have one hell of a hit."

Kent chuckled softly as he and put his arms around her. "Thought so."

"This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," Mac said, introducing the two men to each other as they headed inside the airport and back to the car Gibbs was driving. Gibbs and Kent shook hands.

"Welcome home, Lieutenant. I just wish it was under better circumstances," Gibbs said.

"Same here," Kent said. "Have you made any progress with the case?"

"Well, we know what the mission was about, and we know why it went bad," Gibbs said. "We know who's still alive and who isn't, but we're still trying to locate a few key players."

"Mac says you published the book," Kent said.

"We did. No takers so far, but we're watching closely," Gibbs said.

Kent nodded. "Mind if I take Mac home tonight? We have some catching up to do."

Ignoring the blush that blossomed on Mac's face, Gibbs nodded. "Keep your gun loaded and with you at all times."

"Always," Kent promised.

Later that night, Gibbs checked his email and discovered an email from Barb Eckers nee McEntire, with a series of photos attached.

" _Agent Gibbs, I found these pictures buried in a box in one of my dad's trunks. I've sent you pictures of both sides because they look like they include Admiral Kent when he was younger, as well as who I think are some of Dad's SEAL buddies. I don't know if any of them are of any use, but let me know if there's any you want to take a closer look at. Barb._ "

Attached to the email was about a dozen pictures and Gibbs quickly put them up on the plasma, with Torres joining him.

"What are these, boss?" the younger agent asked.

"Pictures Barb Eckers sent me," Gibbs said, studying the photos. "She found them with her dad's stuff."

"Mr. McEntire?" Torres asked.

"Yeah," Gibbs said absently. "There. Who is this guy?" he asked, pointing to a face they didn't recognize. It was a dark-haired man and he appeared to be in deep conversation with Chief Petty Officer Baldwin.

Torres quickly grabbed the face and started running it through their facial recognition program. "I don't know, but we'll find out."

Vance joined them, curious. "These our SEAL team members?" he asked.

"Yeah," Gibbs said. He identified them, and Vance studied one of them.

"That mark on this guy's hand, can you enlarge that?" Vance asked, pointing to the hand of one of the men. Torres did so, and Vance's brow furrowed. The hand belonged to Petty Officer Williams. "What happened to this guy?"

"That's Petty Officer Williams. He died when he couldn't get out of the way of a rocket because he was pinned down," Torres said. "According to Admiral Kent, they were never too sure if they found all of the remains of his body after that night."

"Why?" Gibbs asked.

"Damned if I know where, but I'm sure I've seen that mark on someone's hand before, from somewhere," Vance said.

"Is it possible Williams didn't die in that explosion?" Torres asked. "In _Operation: Dead Wrong_ , Admiral Kent says he lost sight of Williams during the firefight, and only had radio contact with him when the rocket hit. And a blown-up body could make identification pretty difficult, especially without DNA confirmation."

"But why?" Vance asked. "What do we know about Williams?"

"Not a lot. We didn't have digital files back then and even now, a lot of files still haven't been converted to digital," Torres said, pulling up what they had managed to find on Petty Officer Williams. "Born in 1941 in Denver, Colorado, he joined the Navy when he was eighteen and became a SEAL when he was twenty-two. Clean record, from what we can find, but no family, living or otherwise."

Vance shook his head. "I'm sure I've seen that mark somewhere before."

"Do we know where he's buried?" Gibbs asked.

"Records say his remains were sent back home to Denver," Torres said, reading.

"Damn," Vance muttered.

"You thinking Williams faked his death?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know what to think," Vance said. "We don't have any DNA to compare anything to, so digging up Williams' grave would be pointless." He shook his head. "No, until I know where I've seen that mark, Williams is still a ghost."

Then Gibbs' phone rang. It was McGee, telling him to turn on the news. "What's up, McGee?" Gibbs asked, doing just that.

" _Fire crews are responding to an address belonging to Barb Eckers_ ," McGee said. " _Neighbours reported hearing an explosion just before the fire started, so the fire department is currently thinking gas line explosion_."

"But?" Gibbs asked, watching the live report.

" _But, I just called the senior home, where Mr. McEntire is, and the nurse just checked on him. They're calling the cops now, because it looks like he was suffocated to death,_ " McGee said.

"Get over there," Gibbs said.

" _On my way_."

"Problem?" Vance asked as Gibbs snapped his cell phone shut.

"Yeah. Someone just murdered McEntire, and possibly killed his daughter," Gibbs said, striding out of the bullpen, Torres right on his heels.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Wilbur," Mac said, answering her cellphone.

" _Is Tom with you, and are you safe?_ " Gibbs asked, skipping the preliminaries.

Mac glanced over at her naked lover. "He is, and yes, I'm safe. I'm at his place right now. What's wrong?"

" _Does Tom have his gun with him?_ " Gibbs demanded.

"Agent Gibbs wants to know if you have your gun with you," Mac said to Lieutenant Kent, who responded by getting out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts, and going to his cargo bag. He dug around for a second, and then pulled out a SIG Sauer P226 and quickly slapped in a clip. Mac switched her phone to Speaker, and asked, "He does now. Sir, what's going on?"

" _Keep your door locked and your head down_ ," Gibbs said. " _McEntire was just murdered, and we suspect his daughter was as well. This bastard's just ramped things up._ "

Mac swallowed hard.

"Why would this bastard go after an old man and his daughter?" Lieutenant Kent demanded.

" _Because that old man's daughter just sent me a bunch of photos from your grandfather's days with the SEALs during 1965, and someone really wants that mission to stay buried_ ," Gibbs said. " _Do not answer the door to anyone you absolutely trust, until we can get you moved to a safe house._ " He hung up.

"Good thing I don't have your address anywhere on my files," Mac quipped, watching as Lieutenant Kent double-checked his door and windows. It was a small, but nice, apartment, on the third floor, and accessible only by locked front and back door.

"Yeah, but I think Granddad might, in his address book," Lieutenant Kent said. "Unless he absolutely had to, he hated technology, and had my address written in one of his address books."

"And if the guy got in once before, he can do so again," Mac realized. "I am so glad I just have a fish tank at my place."

"That was a nice looking tank," Lieutenant Kent said, grinning. "Not as nice as what I'm looking at right now, but hey, it was still pretty nice."

Mac's face went scarlet as she tugged his robe around her. "Flirt."

He grinned even wider and wiggled his eyebrows at her, watching as she sent Gibbs a text message about Lieutenant Kent's address possibly being in Admiral Kent's address book at his house.

Across town, Gibbs scowled at the covered body of Bryan McEntire, where a nurse had covered him after discovering his body in his bed. The pillow Palmer and Gibbs suspected of being the murder weapon, had already been bagged and tagged, with Gibbs hoping Kasie might be able to recover some DNA, but he wasn't holding out much hope.

"We just checked cameras, but this guy knew what he was doing," McGee said. "Head down and covered, face away, no visible markings, the works. He must've been watching, because Reception was empty at the time and the number of staff is low right now due to it being night shift."

"Damnit," Gibbs cursed. "How did he know where McEntire was? This damn place is huge." His phone dinged, signalling an incoming message, and he glanced at it.

"Names are on the doors, and it's possible he could have scouted this place earlier, when it was visiting hours," McGee said. "I've had the video for the last week sent to NCIS; might be able to get something off of the other security cameras."

"Good." He glanced at Palmer, who was readying the body for transport. "When?"

"Liver temp says about an hour to two hours ago," Palmer said. "And I'm not sure, but I think I'm seeing something under his nails. He might have scratched or fought his attacker."

"As soon as you know," Gibbs said.

"You'll know. Tim, you want to give me a hand?" Palmer asked.

"When we're done here, we need to check Admiral Kent's house. Mac says Lieutenant Kent's address was in an address book at his grandfather's house," Gibbs said.

"And if the killer got in once, he can get in again," McGee said, seeing where his boss was going.

Over at Barb Ecker's place, which was still burning, Torres came back to Bishop, who was talking to a police officer.

"Fire Chief says it's going to be a couple of hours before the fire is out and cool enough for us to look around. He thinks gas line explosion," Torres said.

"What about Barb and her husband?" Bishop asked.

"No sign of either of them, and their car was in the garage, from the looks of it," Torres said, pointing to the burning building, where the garage could be seen, also on fire. "Plus, witnesses are saying they saw both Barb and her husband come home."

"Did they see anyone else?" Bishop asked.

"A neighbour thought he saw a dark car leaving the area about ten minutes before the explosion, but wasn't close enough to get a make, model, or even a partial plate or a look at the driver," Torres said. "Whoever is doing this knows what they're doing."

"Yeah. I just spoke to McGee; it's the same deal over at the retirement residence. On camera but not really seen," Bishop said. "He's grabbing the footage for the last week to see if maybe we can catch him scouting the place, but he's not optimistic."

"What about Lieutenant Kent and Nurse Mackenzie?"

"McGee says they're safe, but he and the boss are going to head over to Admiral Kent's house because Lieutenant Kent mentioned his grandfather had his address in an address book."

"And Gibbs wants to make sure our killer can't get to that book before we do," Torres guessed. Bishop nodded. "The Fire Chief will call us when it's safe to go in or they find anything," he said. "There's not much more we can do here, for now."

Gibbs and McGee quickly checked Admiral Kent's house, and Gibbs started swearing. If there was an address book, it was gone now.

"Nothing in his desk," McGee said. "Nothing by the phone."

"Kitchen and bedroom, same. Bastard must've got to it before we did," Gibbs snarled. He took out his phone to call Mac when it rang. It was a number he didn't recognize. "Gibbs," he said, answering.

" _Agent Gibbs, it's Bunny. We have a problem_."

"We have several. What's yours?"

" _The alarm for our St. Michaels office went off, and when police checked it, they discovered someone had tried to cut the power to it, which triggered the silent alarm_ ," Bunny said.

"Is anything missing?"

" _I just checked, and it looks like someone tried to jimmy the lock to our personnel files. We're going through them now, but I think I know who we should check first. Frankly I'm surprised the burglar even managed to get into the room with the amount of time he had._ " There was some rustling in the background and then Bunny started swearing. " _Thought so. Mac's file's been screwed with; her contact and personal information sheet is missing. Please tell me she's not there_."

"She's not."

" _Good. And I don't want to know where she is. Tell her to take time off, and we'll classify it as bereavement leave._ "

"Understood." Gibbs hung up and McGee looked at him. "He went after St. Michaels and stole Mac's personal information. When he cut the power to the alarm, he apparently triggered a silent alarm."

McGee nodded. "Smooth move on their part. Burglary One-Oh-One; cut the alarm system first, except they upgraded theirs so that if the power was cut, it would trigger the alarm anyway."

Gibbs called Mac as he and McGee drove through the city. "The killer knows where both of you live," he said when Mac answered.

" _I know where we can go if you want us to vanish_ ," Lieutenant Kent said.

"Do so. We'll come and get you and trade cars at NCIS. We don't know what this son of a bitch is going to do next," Gibbs said. "And Bunny says you're on bereavement leave until further notice."

" _Understood. Tom, what about you?_ " Mac asked.

" _I'll contact my CO, let him know what's going on, and if he has any problems, contact NCIS_ ," Lieutenant Kent said.

"Be ready to go in ten," Gibbs said, snapping his phone shut.

The car screeched to a halt half a block down from Lieutenant Kent's townhouse apartment, and Gibbs saw Mac and the lieutenant come out of the apartment, heading for them, luggage in hand. Due to the number of cars parked on the street, Gibbs couldn't get as close as he liked, and he and McGee were forced to park half way down the block, which meant they would have to walk down the street. Both he and McGee got out, keeping an eye out for trouble. Then Mac froze, her eyes on a car that was parked just slightly down the street from them. Then the car moved and metal flashed.

"Gun!" Lieutenant Kent yelled, pulling out his own gun from behind his back, and shoving his girlfriend down behind a heavy-duty Dodge Ram truck.

Mac wasn't sure what happened, as she was too busy ducking and covering her head, her heart pounding in her chest, but she heard gunshots and the sound of a vehicle crashing against other vehicles. She reflectively tucked herself tighter against the truck's wheels.

"He's down!" Lieutenant Kent yelled, and Mac cautiously popped her head up. The black car she'd spotted seconds earlier was now smoking, missing windows, and crashed against several other parked cars. The condition of the car told Mac that car wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Keeping their weapons up, the three men cautiously approached the car.

"NCIS, get your hands up!" Gibbs yelled.

There was no answer, so the men continued to approach carefully.

"He's alive but he's bleeding," McGee called. "Calling for paramedics now."

Mac quickly came over and looked at the driver. He was bleeding from several different wounds, including a really nasty one on his leg, where a rod from a had gone through, from the loaded tool truck that had been parked nearby and had been crashed into by the driver. The driver looked at her and she stared right back at him. Then she went over to the other side of the car, which wasn't so mangled that she couldn't get in, pulled off her sweatshirt, and put it and her other hand against the man's leg, slowing the bleeding down.

"You shoot me, I let go," she warned him, seeing the gun in his hand. "You don't, we'll talk." The gun was quickly grabbed by Gibbs when the driver didn't move. "Now, we're really going to talk. You see, your life is now in my hands, and trust me, I'm not playing games." The driver glared at her. "This is what's going to happen; you are going to tell those nice NCIS agents everything you know, including why you killed a harmless old man, or I will move my hand and you will bleed to death before the paramedics get here."

"You can't do this to me," the man hissed. "You're a nurse."

"You're right; I am. I am also someone who was very, very fond of the old man who's neck you broke, you murdering wankpuffin," Mac hissed back. "I could save your life, as a nurse, which I am ethically bound to do as a nurse, or I could lift my hand and watch you die a very unpleasant death, which will come even faster when I pull that rod from your leg, and no one will believe that I didn't try my absolute best to save you, not with all the blood on my hands." The man stared at her, breathing hard. "All you have to do is tell us who sent you. You do that, and I'll keep the pressure on. You don't, and I'll lift my hand and you'll be dead before the paramedics get here." She smiled coldly. "Oh, and don't look to them for help, because they won't, and I'm the only one stopping that guy from putting another round in you; he's Admiral Kent's grandson, and he's as much a SEAL as his granddaddy was." The man glanced at Lieutenant Kent, who smiled coldly and raised his gun slightly. "Your choice," Mac whispered, lifting her hand slightly.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

They had a name. Sort of. And a contact number. The driver, who had identified himself only as Cain, had also given them his phone.

"I have nothing to lose. If you don't kill me, and surviving this shit doesn't kill me, then he will, for failing to kill you," Cain whispered hoarsely. "Either way, I'm dead."

Torres and Bishop showed up, and when they did, Gibbs sent Lieutenant Kent and Mac with them to the hiding place Lieutenant Kent was originally planning to go to, with instructions to stay there until they were called.

"Seems one of his SEAL buddies has family that owns and runs a log cabin campground," Bishop later explained, when they regrouped at NCIS, along with Sloane, who had been updated on the situation. "It's off season right now, so the campground is closed, and Lieutenant Kent's buddy told him to use the family's seasonal cabin, which is a really nice log cabin with really thick walls, and told him where to find the keys to the family's rifle cabinet."

"And no electricity yet," Torres said. "Place was creepy as hell."

"We stopped at a small grocery store on the way, and they loaded up on stuff, so they're good for a while," Bishop said.

"How was Mac?" Gibbs asked.

"Moving on automatic," Torres said. "Lieutenant Kent was already watching for the signs of psychological shock when we left, and had picked up a bottle of scotch as a precaution."

"Smart man," Sloane said.

"Do we have anything on this bastard?" Gibbs asked.

"We've been running Cain's prints through every database we can think of, and so far we're coming up blank. Same with facial recognition," McGee said.

"I'm going through his phone, and there's one number that keeps coming up, but it's a restricted number, and yes, I am trying to get it unrestricted," Bishop said, bringing up a file on the plasma, which showed repeated calls to the same number, all lasting less than a minute in length. "Same with the text messages."

"Whoever it is, though, definitely knows what's going on," Torres said. "Look at some of the messages. Red terminated. Secondary located. Proceeding with cleanup." He pointed to an earlier one. "TB cured. Mission complete." The time and date stamp said it was around the suspected time of Admiral Kent's death. "And then there's this one. Code yellow. Meet now."

"That looks like when we started putting Operation: Dead Wrong out in the public," Vance said, also with them. He had been apprised of the situation, and he was not happy.

"Did you get any reactions?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. One of the aides in the meeting, he saw the book and his face went a funny shade of white," Vance said. "Fellow by the name of Commander Arving."

McGee started typing on his computer and quickly brought up a file photo of a Caucasian man with a bald head. "That him?"

"That's him. File says he's been passed over for promotion so many times he's stuck as a commander," Vance said, reading the file McGee had pulled up. "Should be retired by now but looks like he's still there."

"What do we know about him?" Gibbs asked.

McGee scrolled through the file. "Not a lot. Says he's in his late sixties, should have retired by now, but hasn't. Nothing special about him, not a lot of medals, but he's done a few tours overseas, again nothing really special. Frankly, boss, this guy's as boring as a bowl of cereal."

"That could be deliberate," Sloane said. "Best way to work behind the scenes is to keep a low, unassuming, profile. No one would pay much attention to a lowly, elderly commander."

"Are there any pictures of his hand?" Vance asked.

"Searching now," McGee said.

"Hey Gibbs, remember that guy Nurse Mackenzie saw at that party?" Bishop asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah?"

Bishop brought up one of the better pictures of their suspect from the party, and put it beside the file photo of Commander Arving. "Same bald fellow, maybe?"

Gibbs studied the two pictures. "Send that to Mac, see what she says."

"Already doing so," Bishop said. A moment later, she got a reply. "That's him, all caps."

"McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Already digging, boss, but if he's CIA or anything like that, he's going to be backstopped or buried, very, very well," McGee warned him.

"What about that Russian spy, the one the whole mission was about in the first place?" Torres asked.

"We found a Russian citizen with that name, but other than one picture of him, there was nothing," Bishop said. "Nothing to suggest where he lived, or died, or anything."

"Could he have been a fake target?" Torres asked. "You know, so that the CIA guy had an excuse for attacking that compound?"

"It's possible," Vance said.

Bishop's brow furrowed as she studied something on her computer screen. "Okay, I reached out to a contact in Palestine, asking her to go through their archives around that time. See if maybe something happened. She just got back to me. They found a body in the desert, male, Caucasian, stripped, head smashed beyond recognition, and hands cut off."

"So?" Gibbs asked.

"So, he was found less than a mile from where the compound had been, and blood spatter on the ground suggested he'd been shot in the back of the head," Bishop said. "Yael, my friend, she said she found some pictures that were taken, and one of them showed a bloody rock nearby, suggesting that was what was used to bash the head and face in. And, this really interesting; there was a tan mark on the left wrist and right finger of the body."

"A watch and ring," McGee said.

Bishop sent a photo of a body to the plasma. She then sent a photo of the man they suspected was Jones, the CIA agent. A watch could clearly be seen on his left wrist, and some kind of heavy ring could be seen on his right hand.

"The victim's got dark hair, just like Jones," Torres realized.

"Someone murdered Jones, probably just after the failed mission," Sloane realized. "The mission failed, so he had to be punished or removed."

"But who by?" Torres asked.

"What about that Williams guy? The one whose body was never really found?" Torres asked, watching as Gibbs went to answer his desk phone, which was ringing.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he said. He listened for a moment, then said, "Send the body to NCIS, and I want to know about everyone and anyone who was even two feet away from him." He hung up, a scowl on his face. "Cain's dead. He'd survived the surgery, but when the nurse went to check on him a few minutes ago, they discovered him dead. They'll send the body to Palmer."

"What are you thinking?" Vance asked.

"Jones is dead; that body is not a coincidence," Gibbs said.

"It also can't be a coincidence that Williams disappeared during the mission," Sloane said. "And now Cain is dead."

McGee's computer chirped. "And we have another coincidence," he said, throwing up a photo on the plasma. "I just found a photo of Commander Arving's hand. Look familiar?"

"Son of a bitch," Gibbs growled.

"I knew I'd seen that mark before!" Vance said.

McGee's computer chirped again, and he started typing furiously. "I'd set up a program so that if that particular mystery number got any calls or texts, we'd know about it. And it just did."

"And?" Gibbs demanded.

"And one word, sent to the number, from a different number. Done," McGee said.

"Who wants to bet that someone slipped Cain a little something-something in his i.v. line?" Sloane asked.

"Where did that call go to?" Gibbs demanded.

"I can ping it, boss, but not without a warrant," McGee said.

"Do it," Vance said. "I'll authorize it."

"Doing. And this was the nearest cell tower," McGee said, bringing up a map of the D.C. area, with a circle highlighted.

"What's Commander Arving's address?" Vance asked.

"Right there," McGee said, typing fast. The address was within the circle.

Gibbs smirked.

"Do we know anyone who's got Russian contacts?" Torres asked, curious.

Gibbs smirked even wider. He did, but his friend was three hours behind them. As soon as possible, though…

"He does," McGee said.

"And so do I," Vance said. "Our Russian spy might be a decoy, but there has to be a reason why Jones was after him in the first place."

Then: "Uh-oh," McGee said.

"What uh-oh? Uh-oh is not good," Sloane said.

"It's not," McGee said. "That number just got another text. Secondary target located. Commencing with removal."

"Call Lieutenant Kent!" Gibbs snapped.

"Already calling," Bishop said, her phone to her ear.

Lieutenant Kent answered, keeping his voice low.

" _Hopefully you guys have some good news_ ," he said, once Bishop identified herself.

"I'm afraid not," Bishop said. "We just got word that your location may be compromised."

" _Damnit_ ," Lieutenant Kent hissed. " _Mac's asleep and I wanted her to stay that way. What about that moron that tried to take us out?_ "

"He's dead," Bishop said.

Lieutenant Kent muttered something rude under his breath. " _Okay, well, this is a pretty secure location, and I'm armed. My buddy, Bryan, said this place had a few secrets that'd he'd deliberately put in, as a SEAL, in case of situations like this, so it looks like they're about to be tested_."

"Keep us posted, and we'll get there as fast as we can," Bishop said.

" _Understood._ " And Lieutenant Kent hung up.

"Keep me posted," Vance said, watching as Gibbs and his team tore out of the bullpen. They needed that guy alive, and with an angry SEAL and a scared nurse, Vance didn't think their second attacker's chances were very good. An hour later, he had his answer.

" _We learned something new today_ ," Sloane said, over Vance's phone.

"What's that?"

" _Never, ever piss off a frightened nurse_ ," she said, laughing. " _This guy's no-no's are in his throat and his face is busted from a very nice-looking cast iron frying pan_."

Vance winced. "Is he talking?"

" _He's singing like a trio of songbirds_ ," Sloane chortled. " _I don't know what Tom and Mac said to him, but he's more scared of them than he is off his handler. In fact, he's begging for protection._ " There was some talking in the background and then, " _Gibbs has an idea. We're going to send a message to the restricted number, saying the job's done, and then watch Commander Arving like a hawk._ "

"Do it," Vance said. "Keep me posted."

"Always."

Back at the cabin, Lieutenant Kent grinned at his girlfriend, who was still glaring at their would-be attacker, who had dried blood on his face from a busted nose, and was currently being put in cuffs by McGee and Torres. He had given his name only as Abaddon.

"After this is over, what say you, me, and a judge, and we get married?" he asked, putting his arm around her shoulders, keeping his gun out in case of trouble.

"Are you serious?" Mac demanded.

"Hey, any woman who can swing a frying pan like you is a dream come true for a guy like me," Lieutenant Kent said, grinning. "Besides that, it would piss April off, because I was thinking of moving into Granddad's house, and if we're married, then you get to live there too."

Mac stared at him, eyes wide. "Could I decorate it to my preferences?"

"On one condition." At her curious look, he grinned even wider. "That fish tank of yours goes in the living room. That thing was cool!"

"Then we have a deal," Mac said, accepting his kiss.

Sloane stared at them incredulously. "That was the least romantic proposal I have ever heard," she said.

"Yeah, but it works for me," Mac said, blushing, causing Lieutenant Kent to chuckle.

"Fish tank?" Gibbs asked.

"I have a fifty-five gallon fish tank in my living room, with a bunch of fresh water fish," Mac said. "I 'inherited' it from one of my patients, when he passed on, because his family didn't want it."

"Those were some beautiful gouramis," Lieutenant Kent said, grinning.

"Don't you guys ever shut up?" Abaddon groused.

Lieutenant Kent smiled, and inwardly, the NCIS team cringed. Then the SEAL's fist shot out, and Abaddon was on the floor, out cold.

"Nice punch," Bishop said, conversationally.

"Very," McGee said.

"Fine form," Torres said, grinning.

Gibbs just groaned and shook his head.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Cain is dead," Gibbs told Abaddon, who stared at him coldly. "I'm betting either by your hand, or by another one of your buddies. Once our medical examiner determines how, and we finish reviewing hospital footage, it's not going to go down well for you." Silence. "Who's your handler?" Silence. "You know, you managed to piss off a nurse. Now a SEAL, that's one thing. They know all about hurting people. It's kind of their job to take the bad guys out. But a nurse? No, that's a different subject."

Torres winced. "Yeah, because it's their job to make us feel better, so they know what hurts, and how it hurts, and they know it in a little more detail than we do, like how much it hurts to breath with a broken rib. They know about things like medicine and what should and shouldn't be mixed together, and what's the fastest route to the heart. Oh, and let's not forget about the whole tape-ripping-off-a-hairy-chest thing. I cringe every time."

Gibbs chuckled.

They were in an interrogation room with Abaddon, and McGee and Bishop were currently running the suspect through the system.

Cain was actually Private Charles Theodore, a former Marine who had been booted out of the Marines over one too many fights with his superiors. After his discharge, he disappeared off the radar. Palmer had received his body and was working with Kasie to determine the cause of death. Palmer had admitted though, that had Cain not been killed, he might have survived his injuries, abet with a permanent limp because of the rod through his leg.

"You don't scare me," Abaddon hissed. "I'll be out of here within the hour, and you, your buddies, and that stupid nurse, you're all dead."

"You will be, if your handler finds out you've been compromised, just like Cain was," Gibbs said.

"No, I won't. I'm his favorite. Not like Cain was," Abaddon boasted. "Cain was an idiot."

"So are you, for going after Admiral Kent's family," Torres said. "I mean, after the attack in the street, wouldn't you have expected us to be on high alert for something like that? C'mon, that's stupid!"

"I had my orders," Abaddon grumbled. "I would have prefered to have waited, but he wanted them taken care of now."

"Why?" Gibbs asked.

And here, Abaddon fell silent again. Not even threatening to bring in Mac worked.

The team regrouped.

"Meet Private Donnie Bergen, another former Marine with temper issues. He left before he could be discharged, though," Bishop said, pulling a familiar face onto the plasma.

"And there's a number on his cell phone that matches the same one from Cain's," McGee said. "And it's in the same area as Commander Avery's house. And we got a reply back from the burner. Message was; Good. Burn it."

"He's getting rid of all the evidence," Torres said.

"We were doing some more digging on Commander Avery," Bishop said. "Prior to 1965, he doesn't exist. In fact, he didn't turn up until about a year later, and we found a picture of him." Bishop threw a photo on the plasma. "His file says his face was injured in a mining accident, but I don't think those are mining injuries. In fact, I think those are face surgery scars, which could explain why no one recognized Williams."

"And he's kept a very low profile over the years, or so it looks," Sloane guessed. "If he's CIA, or any other black books operator, he would be very good at covering his tracks."

"We need to draw him out," Vance said, having joined them and been brought up to date on things. Privately, he was impressed by the gutsiness of Nurse Mackenzie, especially when he found out about the frying pan to the face. To quote Lieutenant Kent, do not mess with a frightened nurse who has seen every _Home Alone_ movie ever made, even the ones without Kevin McCallister.

"We need to get this bastard out into the open, before he sends another one of his stooges," Gibbs said. On the way back, they had received a phone call from the fire department. The fire was out, and they had found two bodies, both of which were on the way to NCIS's morgue. Palmer and Kasie were going to be busy for a while.

"Well, our connections are the phones," Torres said. "Can't we call it up and say, 'Hey moron, guess what I got?' He already thinks Nurse Mackenzie and Lieutenant Kent are dead."

Bishop tilted her head thoughtfully. "He's right. If it is Commander Avery, then we might have an advantage over him. Especially if we made it look like Mac and Lieutenant Kent were still in the game."

"I won't put them in danger again," Gibbs said.

"They won't be, not if we're watching closely," Bishop said.

"You got an idea," Torres said, grinning.

"Ever see that movie, _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_?" Bishop asked.

"Yes," McGee said.

"No," Gibbs said.

"Okay, well, Captain America faces off against HYDRA, the bad guys, who had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., the good guys," Bishop explained.

"I know who they are," Gibbs snapped.

"Okay, right. Well, in the movie, Captain America and his buddies kidnapped a suspected HYDRA spy. They got him out of the public by convincing him he had a laser sight on his chest, from a sniper rifle," Bishop continued. "And Falcon called him and told him to get into the car, or they were going to ruin that expensive-looking tie of his."

"I remember that part," Vance said, nodding. "What are you thinking?"

"We do the same. We send Commander Avery a message, telling him Abaddon needs to meet, and then track him. Once he gets to where he's supposed to meet Abaddon, we set Mac on him, giving us the element of surprise," Bishop said. "To convince him that she's serious, we set a laser sight on him from a rifle. Lieutenant Kent's file says he's a pretty good shot. He wouldn't have to actually shoot Commander Avery, but he might have to fire a round to convince him."

"And Mac gets him to talk," Sloane said, catching on. "Maybe gives him a little something to convince him he's having a heart attack or something."

McGee started typing. A moment later, he grinned. "Which wouldn't be too hard; Commander Avery has diabetes, which he developed over the last three years."

"And someone like Mac would know what and how to screw with that enough to make it look like he's having a heart attack, or potentially leading up to one," Sloane guessed.

A grin started crossing Torres face. "What was it that Abby did to that guy, the one she made think she'd given that chemical agent to? Roger King?"

"A couple of Caf-Pow pills," McGee confirmed. "Sent his heart racing, and with a little psychological manipulation from Abby, she had him firmly convinced she had slipped him the chemical agent."

"Nice," Sloane said, chuckling.

"And Nurse Mackenzie has shown she can play dirty," McGee said to Gibbs. "You should have seen how she handled Cain," he told the others. "She had him convinced he was going to bleed to death if she moved her hand away from his leg, unless he told her what she wanted to know. And if that wasn't enough to convince him, she had him believing Lieutenant Kent would shoot him and we wouldn't interfere."

"The guy killed someone she cared about," Sloane said. "She's not going to play by the same rules we do, not if she thinks she can get away with it."

Gibbs glanced at the time. It was nearly two in the morning. "Get some rest. Then, first thing in the morning, we call them up and see what they say," he said. "There's not much we can do right now."

"And Lieutenant Kent threatened to cut our throats in our sleep if we woke Mac up again," Sloane said conversationally. At Vance's raised eyebrow, she said, "He's a SEAL who's pretty protective of his fianceé; he would."

The next morning, they had their answer.

Cain had died as a result of a morphine overdose that had likely been introduced to his i.v. line, thanks to Abaddon, who was seen on the hospital cameras around the time of Cain's death.

" _I'm in_ ," Mac said, over the phone.

"Are you sure?" Gibbs asked. "Commander Avery may try something or he may have someone watching him, and you could get hurt."

" _Then I expect you guys to have my back_ ," Mac shot back.

" _Trust me, we will_ ," Lieutenant Kent said. " _Think one of you guys can get your hands on a sniper rifle with a laser and a suppressor?_ "

Gibbs smirked. He knew someone, all right.

While they waited for Lieutenant Kent and Mac to get back, Gibbs called his contact.

" _Callen._ "

"It's Gibbs. I need a favour."

" _What kind?_ "

"The Russian kind. We're looking for a suspected former Russian spy, who was supposed to be operating in Palestine around 1965," Gibbs said. "Guy by the name of Andrei Nasonov. His name came up in a murder investigation. Was supposed to be the target of a failed SEAL mission in Palestine, but one of the survivors of that mission said he was never there, and we can't find anything, other than the fact that someone by that name was in the Soviet Union around that time. We want to know what was so important about him and if he ever existed."

" _I'll see what I can find out and get back to you_ ," Callen said.

The message was sent and over at the Pentagon, Vance watched as Commander Avery glanced at his phone.

"Problem, Commander?" Vance asked casually.

The commander grunted. "My wife nagging at me again. Wants to meet me for lunch, probably to keep an eye on what I'm eating. Damn diabetes."

"Wives. Can't live with them, can't live without them," Vance quipped, chuckling.

As Commander Avery walked away, he quickly called Gibbs.

"He bit."

"We have him," Gibbs said.

"Be safe."

Gibbs and his team followed Commander Avery to a local park and watched as he sat down at a bench.

"Everyone in place?" Gibbs asked.

"Confirmed," McGee said from a park bench just behind Commander Avery.

"Same here," Bishop said.

"Target in sight," Lieutenant Kent said, having taken up position in some bushes, within decent shooting range. Torres, who was with him, saw the smirk on his face. The bushes afforded them privacy and protection if someone started shooting. "Not seeing anyone else."

"Keep your eyes open. Mac, you're on," Gibbs said.

Mac, who had been hiding with Gibbs, started walking towards Commander Avery, her borrowed Navy pea coat swishing as she moved. It had originally belonged to Admiral Kent, and Lieutenant Kent had found it while doing a quick inventory check at his grandfather's house, rightfully thinking Mac might like it.

"Light him up," Gibbs said.

Lieutenant Kent pressed a button on the scope and a red beam of light lanced out, hitting Commander Avery in the chest, where his heart was. "Lights on."

"Good day, Commander," Mac said, as she got closer.

"Who are you, miss?" Commander Avery asked.

Mac smiled as she sat down next to the commander, putting an elbow on the back of the bench and propping her jaw against her hand. "You know who I am, Commander. That idiot you sent after us? He was a lot more scared of me and my boyfriend than he was of you, especially once I got ahold of a frying pan and a fishing knife."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Commander Avery snapped, getting up to leave.

Mac smiled at the commander. "That's a nice suit you're wearing. Would be a pity if blood got on it," she said sweetly. The commander looked down at his chest and saw the red dot. He froze and slowly sat back down.

"You're bluffing," Commander Avery said coldly.

"Tom?" Mac asked.

A moment later, the back of the bench exploded as a rifle round went through it, missing Commander Avery by inches. No one moved, as the rifle had been equipped with a sound suppressor, and there were a bunch of sparrows on a feeding frenzy nearby, creating a bit of a ruckus. The commander stared at her, his eyes going a little wide. "Yeah. I think I have your attention now."

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"I want to beat your miserable ass into the ground for killing someone I cared about dearly." Then her other hand moved, and Commander Avery jumped as she suddenly stabbed him with a needle full of clear fluid, making it look like she was just patting his leg. "But I'll take you having a heart attack as a start."

With the red dot square on his chest, Commander Avery didn't dare move. "What the hell did you give me?" he hissed, rubbing his leg.

"A very, very high dose of potassium. You have diabetes problems, and as a nurse, I know what will and will not clash with your body," Mac said, smiling coldly, as she thumbed the needle safety cover back on and put it back in her pocket. "By the time I leave, you son of a bitch, you will be in the process of a major heart failure. Poor old man, dead of a heart attack. Really should have retired all those years ago." She clicked her tongue. "However, I do have the stuff to reverse it." She took out another needle, also filled with a clear fluid, but had a piece of tape wrapped around the top, and waggled it at him, before putting it back in her pocket.

"What do you want?" Commander Avery hissed. "Money? I have plenty."

"I don't want your blood money, you walking piece of maggot cheese. ("Walking piece of maggot cheese? Damn, man, your girlfriend has some colorful expressions," Torres quipped.) "Besides your death, I want to know why you felt it was so imperative that you kill a harmless old man, just because he wrote a book about a mission that should have never happened," Mac shot back, ignoring Lieutenant Kent's chuckle in her ear. "NCIS let slip a few things to me, like how you're really Petty Officer Williams, the SEAL who got blown up during the mission, and how CIA agent Jones' body was found a few days later." She watched as Commander Avery's face blanched. "Yeah, I know _all_ about that. And so does NCIS. Now, the only reason I'm here and they're not, is because I'm madder than they are." She leaned close, and whispered softly, "And meaner. So, why did you have Admiral Kent killed? Tell me, now, and I will give you the counter agent to the potassium. You don't, and you're dead."

"I'm a dead man anyway," Commander Avery said, starting to sweat. "If my superiors found out I'd screwed up that misson years ago, I'm just as dead as Cain or anyone else who fails. They don't take failure lightly."

"Who's they?" Mac coaxed. "Someone within the CIA? Maybe a black ops that the government doesn't like to talk about?"

Commander Avery smirked. "Trump and his Republicans aren't the one running the government; we are. Trump's just too stupid to realize it."

Mac stared at him. "So you're saying you murdered an old man, who didn't have much time left anyway, to cover up your screw up. And then you went after another old man and his daughter and son-in-law. And me and my fiancé too? How stupid can you get? All you had to do was have Admiral Kent's hard drive erased. Then the book would never have been published."

"Couldn't take the risk that he'd already printed the damn thing up," Commander Avery hissed. "He wasn't as stupid as he looked."

"You got that right," Mac said.

"And once NCIS started investigating, because of you, I had to get rid of you and anyone associated with him," Commander Avery continued, starting to pant.

Mac put two fingers to his cartieroid artery and glanced at her watch. "Tsk. You're really going there, aren't you, old man? So what's next, the publishing company?"

"If I had to. Bombs in the mail, with a little hate mail? Thanks to Trump and him going after reporters, it wouldn't be inconceivable for someone to go after a publishing company. Or even have a gas line explosion. These things happen all the time," Commander Avery said, smiling coldly.

"Hey Mac? That should do it," Gibbs said.

"Good. Because I'm about to punch this guy in the face," Mac said easily, smiling at the distressed commander. Lieutenant Kent was still out of sight, putting his rifle away. "You are a joke and an insult to that uniform," she said as Gibbs and his team approached them. "I hope you live long and suffer, and when you finally die, I hope you suffer the agonies of Hell for what you did," she hissed, standing up.

"But you promised me the counter-agent to the potassium you gave me," Commander Avery snarled as Gibbs and McGee pulled him up, and put cuffs on him.

"Oh that? You're not the only one who can play the dirty game," Mac said, smiling widely. "That wasn't potassium; that was a high dosage of caffeine pills, just enough to get your heart going, along with a little mental screwing and coaching from a bug in my ear. It'll wear off, in a bit. And the other stuff? That was just water. Unlike you, you filthy animal, there are some lines I won't cross. Much."

"And the asshole who shot at me?" Commander Avery snarled.

"Turns out Lieutenant Kent is as good a shot as he said he was, and according to him, that was an easy shot," McGee said. "You're lucky he didn't follow up on his threat to put one through your chest if he thought you were going to hurt his favorite nurse."

"Let's go. I'm sure there's a few people who would love to talk to you," Gibbs said.

Lieutenant Kent joined them, his rifle in a harmless-looking duffle bag, and put his arm around his fiancee. "Now that this shit is over and done with, there are things we have to do, like plan Granddad's funeral and get a marriage license," he said.

"And Gibbs? You need to press your best suit, because you're going to be the one walking me down the aisle to the judge," Mac said easily, as they escorted the commander to their cars.

Commander Avery smirked. "Good luck getting there. Accidents happen, you know."

Everyone started mentally cringing and groaning when they saw the cold look come into Mac's eyes. Then the commander was down on the ground, trying not to throw up.

"I don't take kindly to being threatened by an old fart like you," she hissed.

"Haven't you done enough damage with that mouth of yours already?" Bishop asked. "If you're not careful, she'll put you in hospital, and she knows how to make it look like an accident too, better than Cain did."

Gibbs later caught up to Vance. "Well, Commander Avery is being watched closely, and as soon as possible, he's being transferred to the nearest supermax prison," Vance said.

Gibbs nodded. "Once he realized we had his handler, Abaddon confessed to everything he knew. McGee and Bishop are leading a cyberteam to go through Commander Avery's life with a lice comb. Might take us a while, but we'll find out who was at the top."

"And Nurse Mackenzie and Lieutenant Kent?"

"Getting married at the end of the week. I'm giving her away, which means I have to send my best suit to the cleaners," Gibbs said, smirking.

"What about her own family?"

"She stopped talking to them after her parents tried to convince her to forgive her fiance for cheating on her, a month before the wedding, saying all men do that. Except Mac wasn't so forgiving of him, or her parents, especially when she found out her dad expected her to give up her nursing career once she got married, and settle down and have babies," Gibbs said. Vance's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah. She told them where to go and how to get there, on no uncertain terms, and hasn't spoken to them since, and isn't about to start any time soon."

"I can't really say I blame her."

Gibbs phone rang: it was Callen.

" _Did some chatting with a friend of mine who has ties to the Russian mob. Turns out Andrei Nasonov was a cover name for a fake spy around that time, one the KGB used to play cat-and-mouse games with, with the CIA_ ," Callen said. " _Create a fake spy, make it seem like he was doing stuff, and see who bites_."

"Makes sense," Gibbs said.

" _According to Arkady, he should have been discontinued when the Soviet Union fell_ ," Callen said. " _I told him his name came up in a murder investigation, and he said something about how the past never really leaves us_."

Gibbs grunted. "Thanks, Callen. I owe you one," he said, before he hung up. "Andrei Nasonov was a fake KGB spy set out as a carrot for the CIA," he said to Vance. "When Jones bit, he caught the attention of the KGB, and when he failed the mission, because Andrei Nasonov never really existed, he was removed, and Williams took over."

"That was some costly mistake," Vance said, eyes a bit wide.

"And we're still cleaning them up today," Gibbs said, walking out of the office.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Some minor revisions done. Enjoy.

Chapter 13

 _A few weeks later:_

Gibbs entered the house, after Mac opened it on his knock. He accepted her hug and greeting, and followed her into the kitchen, noting the changes in the house. It looked brighter, cleaner, and there was a large fish tank in the living room, with colorful fish darting about. Surprisingly enough, there was a large cat tower in another corner of the room, and as Gibbs watched, three long-haired black kittens tumbled down the stairs before barreling down the hall into what used to be Admiral Kent's room.

"Meet the Triplets," Mac said, handing him a cup of coffee. "They, and Momma, moved in two weeks ago, and it's been fun ever since. The vet says the kittens were about three weeks at the time."

"They're cute," Gibbs said, going into the kitchen. "How's married life treating you?"

Mac blushed. "Wonderful. Tom's been studying for his bar exam, so he can join JAG and be home more often. And I got promoted. Turns out one of the other supervisors, Angie, didn't take the threat against me seriously enough and admitted to talking to a guy that matched Cain's description, about me and where I might be found. She thought it was just general chit-chat, flirt type thing, but she did admit that we keep all our staffing information on files in St. Michaels. Guess who's position I got?"

Gibbs just shook his head. "What about April?"

"She tried, she failed," Mac said. "Oh, and she had a royal screaming fit when she found out Tom and I were married. What was his was now also mine."

Gibbs chuckled. Then they both stood up, startled, at the sound of the back door rattling. Gibbs slammed Mac against the wall, bringing out his gun. A moment later, the door creaked open, then they heard a low growling noise, followed by someone swearing softly.

"Where's your car?" Gibbs hissed.

"In the shop. Tom convinced me to trade it for a cute little Mini Cooper convertible, but it needed a little work on the brakes," Mac hissed. "And yes, the back door is unlocked, because I still have to put in a kitty door for Momma!"

Suddenly, the growling changed to a loud feline yowl, and Gibbs saw the Triplets dash past the kitchen. Then they heard it; a human female voice scream in terror. Gibbs tore around the corner to the back door, weapon at the ready, Mac hot on his heels, only to see the door slamming shut. Gibbs and Mac chased after their burglar, in time to see none other than April Kent being cornered in the yard, a large black, long-haired, very angry cat, tail up and floofed, growling and swearing loudly.

"April, you dumb bitch!" Mac snarled, grabbing the cat, whom Gibbs assumed was Momma, by the scruff of her neck. "Get out of here, before I have you arrested for trespassing!"

"This house should have been mine!" April wailed. "You stole it from me!"

"If I let Momma go, will I get into trouble?" Mac casually asked Gibbs.

Gibbs smirked, putting his gun away. "I know nothing. That's good coffee, by the way."

"Isn't it? Even Tom likes it, and he's pretty picky about his coffee," Mac said easily, slowly removing her hand from Momma. April whimpered in fear. "April, let me make this perfectly clear. Momma is a sweet kitty, but this is her home and I think she's a little protective of it. Do I make myself clear?" April swore at them, and Mac let go of Momma a little more, who took a threatening lunge towards April, who shrieked in fear.

"I'll have Animal Control after you!" she screeched.

"Gibbs, would you mind?" Mac asked. "If I let Momma go, she's going to put this dumb blonde in hospital, and I really don't feel like explaining that to a judge."

Still smirking, Gibbs grabbed April and leapfrogged her off the Kent property, nearly going deaf from her cursing and swearing. As he reached the front of the house, he grinned. "And there's a cop car when you need one," he said, flagging it down.

Once the situation was explained, April was arrested for trespassing and violating her restraining order.

"Hope you have ear plugs," Gibbs told the scowling officer as he put the swearing woman in the back of his car.

"She always this bad?" the officer grumbled, slamming the car door.

"Should have heard her when Momma confronted her," Gibbs said, grinning.

"Who?"

"Big, black, furry, and very, very angry kitty," Gibbs said. "Kinda possessive about the people in her home."

The officer grunted. "Sounds like my girlfriend's cat. Fuzzbrain always makes me feel like a kid dealing with the high school principal, even though I haven't done anything wrong."

Gibbs chuckled. "Good luck." He headed back inside, and found Mac back in the kitchen, giving a now-purring Momma a can of tuna. As he watched, the older cat dove into the tuna, quickly followed by what he now realized were her kittens.

"And you just met Momma," Mac explained. "She just sorta showed up one day, and I started feeding her. Next thing I know, she's moved in and brought these fellows. And yes, Tom knows, and he loves it."

Their wedding had been simple, with Gibbs giving Mac away in front of the judge. The rest of the team had surprised the couple by showing up and springing for a really nice lunch. Not to his surprise, however, Gibbs had seen Admiral Kent out of the corner of his eye, watching the proceedings.

"About time you two got your act together," Admiral Kent had said, grinning broadly.

Later, Mac had quietly admitted she'd thought she'd seen the admiral out of the corner of her eye, watching them.

"Maybe he was," Gibbs said, "and maybe he was happy."

"Me and Tom ran into my mom and dad a few days ago," Mac admitted now.

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

"Funny, actually. An elderly guy was having heart problems at a cafe Tom and I had stopped to eat at, and we had stepped in to assist. When Mom and Dad found out Tom was my husband, Dad demanded to know if I was finally going to give up my, quote, useless career," Mac said.

"Jeeze," Gibbs groaned.

"Tom started laughing hysterically, and this old guy, who had to be ninety to the day, tore a strip off Dad, saying if it wasn't for nurses like me, he would have been dead ten times over, that Dad was as smart as a box of tennis balls if he didn't realize what a treasure I was. And in the meantime, Tom was just standing there, grinning like an idiot, then says, 'What he says.' When the paramedics got there, we discovered the guy had been inches away from having a very serious heart attack, had I not stepped in and given him his medication. His son showed up and I nearly got my ribs cracked from his hug."

Gibbs laughed. "Yeah, that would do it."

"And Dad was just standing there, his mouth hanging open, and probably feeling like an idiot, as my 'useless career' garnered me a lot of attention, even though Tom was the one with the Macho Man career. Then the old guy's son found out that Dad had called my profession a 'useless career' and Dad lost another strip of skin." Gibbs winced. "I later found out that Tom had quietly given Mom my cell number and told her that if she ever wanted to try talking to me as as an actual person, instead of as someone who needed to be married off and have babies, then she should try, and that I had been right to call off that last wedding, because not all men cheated on their women."

"You think she will?"

"I don't know, but if she does, I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. See how it plays out."

Gibbs and Mac chatted for a bit more, and then Gibbs got a call. "I hate to say this, but I got another one."

"Go," Mac said, giving him a hug. "And if you ever need medical help that requires no questions being asked, you call me first."

Gibbs promised he would.

At the crime scene, a short time later, Gibbs pulled up. "What do we got?" he asked.

"Meet Commander Michael Lavery," Torres said. "Looks like someone was not too happy with him."

"Multiple stab wounds," Palmer said, studying the waterlogged body. "Clustered in the chest area. Someone was mad."

"Someone always is," Gibbs said.

"How was Mac?" McGee asked quietly.

"Doing good."

"Good. I'm glad. She deserves a chance to be happy."

"Let's find out who this guy made very unhappy."

The End.


End file.
